heaviest my Mexicans or I had ever experienced.  In a few minutes the almost level fields were flooded as far as the eye could see, and the road we followed began to run with brown water.  As we advanced through the mud, the small arroyos were rapidly filling.  The rain did not abate, and the force of the currents steadily increased.  When only three hundred yards from the town we found ourselves at the edge of a muddy stream, running so rapidly that it tore pieces from the bank, and carried small pines and branches of trees with it.  As it was impossible to cross it, we had to wait, however impatiently, for the rain to subside sufficiently to allow us to wade through the water.  And all the next day was spent in drying my things.

One year later I was again in Carichic, and from there I made my way to Guachochic.  One night I had to spend in the house of a civilised Indian, as it rained too heavily for us to remain outdoors.  The house was made of stone and mud, without windows, and the door had to be closed on account of the dogs.  There was no way for air to get in except through the chimney, over the fireplace.  There were nine people and one baby in the small room.  Strange to say, I slept well.

My mules and outfit had been well taken care of at Guachochic, and I now arranged with Don Carlos Garcia to take most of my belongings to Guanazevi, a mining town in the neighbouring State of Durango, while with a few of the best mules I crossed Barranca de San Carlos near Guachochic, and pursued my way through regions inhabited by Tarahumares and Tepehuanes.  A stammering Tarahumare was observed, the only Indian with this defect that has come to my notice.

The road I followed to Guanazevi from Guadalupe y Calvo leads through a part of the Sierra Madre which is from nine to ten thousand feet high and uninhabited, and for two days we met nobody.  In winter the region is dreaded on account of the heavy snowfalls that are liable to occur here.  Several people are said to have perished, and one freighter on one occasion lost twenty-seven mules.  In the wet season bears are numerous, and, according to trustworthy information, have attacked and eaten several Tarahumares.

We camped one night at a place where a man had been killed by robbers some time before, and one of the Mexicans shudderingly expressed his fear that we should probably hear the dead man cry at night.  This led to a discussion among the men as to whether the dead could cry or not.  The consensus of opinion was that the dead could cry, but they could not appear.  This, by the way, is the common Indian belief.  My Tepehuane servant took an intense interest in the arguments.  His face became suddenly animated with fear, and the thought of the dead changed him from an indolent fellow into a valuable aid to my chief packer in watching the animals at night.  His senses became so keen as to be quite reassuring in regard to robbers at night, and from that time on he was really a valuable man, active and alert.