Having gotten my mules safely over this dangerous track, where they could never have been rescued if they had lost their footing, I arrived after a while at the home of the shaman, near which I camped.  When I went up to the house, I found it empty, and was barely in time to see a woman making her escape with a child as best she could.  I realised that if the shaman did not return that evening or early next day, I should have to return to Lajas.  The plaintive trumpet sound of a giant woodpecker about sunset—­as far as we could make out, the only living being in the vicinity—­did not detract from the gloominess of the prospect.

Luckily, however, my shaman friend came to my tent at daybreak next morning, and thus relieved my anxiety.  Though exceedingly busy cutting down trees and shrubs to clear his field, he spared one of his helpers to show me the way to Hormigas (ants), charging only three reales for the accommodation, and one real extra (twelve cents in Mexican money) to be paid to the man in case I should want him to go farther and show me the way to Aguacates.  I also improved the opportunity to get from him some ethnological information and a short Tepehuane vocabulary.

Thus with lightened heart I started off through a country that, while it did not present any remarkably steep ascents and descents, was very rough and hard to travel.  The main sierra is here very narrow, and the large mountainous mass broken up into irregular ridges and steep valleys.  The next day, much of the time we followed a high, rocky ridge, the highest point of which is called Mojoneras.  Here, ten miles north of Pueblo Viejo, the boundary line of the territory of Tepic is said to run.  For several miles on the road, and particularly from the last-mentioned ridge, magnificent views of the wild country northward present themselves, over the steep descent into the canons and gorges of the western part of the Sierra Madre.  Only three Tepehuane ranches were observed.

I arrived without any mishap at Pueblo Viejo, which is inhabited mainly by Aztecs.  Of late years they have become much mixed with the Tepehuanes, who have here taken refuge from drought and the advancing “neighbours.”  Indian settlers who thus come from other pueblos are called poblanos.  They receive land from the community in return for the services they render, and the two tribes freely intermarry, although “neighbours” are never allowed to settle within the confines of the village.  Still the people, who have considerable intercourse with Acaponeta, and who also go some distance to work in the mines of Sinaloa, speak Spanish quite well.  Indeed, of the three languages spoken here, Spanish is the one most generally heard.  Several Nahuatlan words have been forgotten, and in making out my list of collections I had great difficulty in getting designations for some of the objects, for instance the word for “quiver,” and for the curious rattling anklets used by dancers.  Only elderly people speak Nahuatl correctly, and the Tepehuane influence is strong here, even in the ancient religion of the people.  It was curious to note that many people here, as in Lajas, eat neither hens nor sheep, while they freely partake of beef.