We continued our way toward the south, crossing Barranca de Cobre where it is 3,300 feet deep.  The track we followed was fairly good, but led along several dangerous precipices, over which two burros rolled and were killed.  The highest point we reached on the track over the highlands south of the barranca was 8,300 feet.  There seemed to be a divide here, the climate being cool and moist, and the farthest ranges toward the south and west enveloped in mist and fog.  Although Barranca de Batopilas is not as narrow and impressive as the barranca we had just left, still the mighty gap, as we looked into its hazy bottom from the highlands, presented an imposing, awe-inspiring sight.

Following the windings of the well-laid-out road we descended into the canon and made camp a few miles this side of the town of Batopilas.  The silver mines here, which are old and famous, were discovered in the seventeenth century.  I was cordially received by Mr. A. R. Shepherd, the well-known mining expert, whose courtesy and kindness were much appreciated by the members of the expedition.

My recent experience had convinced me that the only way to study the natives properly was to live among them for a length of time, and as such a thing was out of the question with so large a party as I still had with me, I made up my mind to discharge as soon as possible everybody and to remain alone.

The country was now suffering from a relentlessly scorching sun.  The heat increased as the wet season approached, and, as the animals were getting weaker and weaker, I disposed here of about half of them, and the number of attendants and the amount of baggage were correspondingly reduced.  On continuing the journey with the weak and hungry mules, we found the ascent of the southern side of Barranca de Batopilas quite laborious; but on the crest we enjoyed the fresh breeze, the more gratefully after the enervating heat in the bottom of the canon.

Thus we arrived at the village of Yoquibo (yoki = bluebird; ivo = mesa:  bluebird on the mesa).  Here I had to stop for a few days to reconnoitre the road.  I was told that the grass had been burned by the Indians almost as far as the ranches of Guachochic, our main objective point.  The Indians at that time (May) always burn the grass, and the entire country is wrapped in smoke.  This, they think, is necessary to produce rain; smoke-clouds and rain-clouds, in their opinion, bringing about the same ultimate result.  But it is exceedingly trying for travellers, man and beast.  Only by accident is some little spot of grass spared here and there, and progress becomes almost an impossibility.

Immediately upon our arrival I went to see the gobernador, and, strange to say, I found him engaged in teaching his young wife how to weave.  Three months ago his first wife had died of smallpox.  Old bachelors and widowers have a hard time in getting wives, because the Tarahumare belles have a decided preference for young men.  But the wifeless Indian feels very unhappy, as it means that he has to do all the woman’s housework, which is very laborious, and therefore thoroughly distasteful to him.  By way of fascinating this young girl, the gobernador had to exert himself to the extent of teaching her how to make girdles and wearing apparel.