a few days, and had the city for a prison; as they had made no effort to leave the town, their movements were not interfered with, but if they had attempted to step outside the city limits, they would have been shot without a word of warning.  The jefe himself did not know who they were, nor what crime they had committed; nor did he know how long they would remain in his custody; they had come a weary journey, as he put it, “along the Cordillera;” they had been passed from hand to hand, from one jefe to another; when the order came, he was to start them on their journey to the jefe of the next district.  Of the many stories told regarding them, a few will serve as samples.  She was said to be the wife of a wealthy merchant of Campeche, from whom she had eloped with her companion, carrying away $150,000.  According to another view, they were connected with an important band of forgers and robbers, who had been carrying on extensive operations.  The most minutely detailed story, however, was that she had been the mistress and favorite of Francisco Canton, Governor of the State of Yucatan; that, pleased with a younger and handsomer man, she had stolen $7,000 from His Excellency, and attempted an elopement; that, captured, they were being sent as prisoners, nominally to Mexico.  Whether any of these stories had a basis of fact, we cannot say, but from remarks the prisoners themselves made to us, we feel sure that the centre of their trouble was Merida, and that, in some way, they had offended the pompous governor.  At all events, it is likely that, long before these words are written, both have met their death upon the road.  It is a common thing for prisoners, passing along the Cordillera, to be shot “while attempting to escape from their guard.”

The jefe politico of this district is a man of education, and professional ability; he is a physician, trained in the City of Mexico; he is ingenious in mechanics, and has devised a number of instruments and inventions of a scientific kind.  He had been but a short time in this district, having come from Tonala, where he has a finca.  He entertained us at his house, while we were there, and showed us every assistance.  It is plain, however, that he found us a white elephant upon his hands.  Not that his willingness was lacking, but where should he find one hundred indian men?  We pestered him almost to death for subjects, when at last his secretario suggested the district jail.  This was a veritable inspiration.  There they were sure we would have no difficulty in finding the remainder of our hundred.  To the jail we went, but out of seventy-five prisoners fully half were Tzotzils from Chamula and not Zoques.  More than half of the remainder were not indian, but mestizos.  In fact, out of the total number, only a baker’s dozen served our purpose.  When we again presented ourselves, the following morning, for subjects, the poor man was in genuine desperation.