"Don't you want to get there at a good hour?
Why do you go so slowly ?" And then, striking the horse, he trotted along at wonderful speed.

We reached Huautla at half-past-eight, stopping an hour to feed our horses and to eat beans and _tortillas_.

We then pushed on down the slope, and out over the long ridge, passing the hut of our Cordoban Aztec woman.

It was the hottest hour of the day when we descended the broad road, over the hot rocks, and saw Cuicatlan in the distance.
Thanks to our _arriero_, we drew up at Dona Serafina's when it was but 3:40 in the afternoon, having been upon the road eleven hours.
[Illustration].