TRAVELS IN MEXICO.
At noon we had reached the little village of Tixpenal, where there are the ruins of a large church surrounded by numerous thatched huts. The destruction of this church was due to one of the governors of Yucatan, who shot at a vulture on the roof and lighted the thatch, the building being destroyed, except its massive walls; these were black with buzzards. With becoming regard for the wants of the people, the governor promised to build another church,—but he never did it. As the sun grows hot, the vultures, which have been busy about the streets and back yards, and roosting on the walls and roofs, are seen sailing in circles high in air, one around the other. Between their thatched huts and their outbuildings, the Indians construct connecting arbors, over which grows a kind of gourd, the vine covering them with a thick matting, wholly impervious to the sun. So these people live in cool shade, walking about in loose cotton garments, with bare feet and legs, and with sandals on,—sandals kept in place by a line between the great toe and the next, and wound about the leg above the ankle.
We reached San Antonio late in the afternoon, and were received in a princely manner by Don Alvaro Peon, the courteous proprietor. This gentleman, a splendid specimen of manhood, cultured and travelled, is the present representative of an ancient and distinguished family, which estimates its possessions by hundreds of square leagues. In going to Uxmal, I had ridden all day, a distance of nearly fifty miles, over territory once owned by his father. This estate of San Antonio was eleven leagues square, and contained twelve hundred acres planted with henequen, and many more in process of subjection. At about seven, in the cool of the next morning, we left the hacienda for the farther one owned by him, Aké, our objective point. We rode in the coach the Empress Carlotta used when in Yucatan. Don Alvaro was her last escort when she left Mexico, and cherishes the memory of her visit as one of the brightest episodes of his life.
Driving through pleasant lanes, we emerged upon the King's Road—el camino real—at the town of Tixkokob. Here are made all the cheap hammocks that are sent to the United
