glimpse of an Indian woman, with her long hair, resting under the shade of
a lofty tree--beside a running stream--an Oriental picture. Had it not been
for the dust and the jolting, nothing could have been more delightful. As
for Don Miguel, with his head out of the window, now desiring the coachman
to go more quietly, now warning us to prepare for a jolt, now pointing out
everything worth looking at, and making light of difficulties, he was the
very best conductor of a journey I ever met with. His hat of itself was a
curiosity to us; a white beaver with immense brim, lined with thick silver
tissue, with two large silver rolls and tassels round it.

One circumstance must be observed by all who travel in Mexican territory.
There is not one human being or passing object to be seen that is not in
itself a picture, or which would not form a good subject for the pencil.
The Indian women with their plaited hair, and little children slung to
their backs, their large straw hats, and petticoats of two colours--the
long strings of arrieros with their loaded mules, and swarthy,
wild-looking faces--the chance horseman who passes with his sarape of many
colours, his high ornamented saddle, Mexican hat, silver stirrups, and
leathern boots--this is picturesque. Salvator Rosa and Hogarth might have
travelled here to advantage, hand-in-hand; Salvator for the sublime, and
Hogarth taking him up where the sublime became the ridiculous.

At La Calera we had a distant view of the sea. Occasionally we stopped to
buy oranges fresh from the trees, pineapples, and granaditas, which are
like Brobdinagian gooseberries, the pulp enclosed in a very thick yellow or
green rind, and very refreshing.

It was about seven in the evening, when very dusty, rather tired, but very
much enchanted with all we had seen, we arrived at Plan del Rio. Here the
diligence passengers generally stop for the night; that is, sleep a few