He then stopped every few yards, breathing as if it were his last gasp.

This he kept up for the whole ascent, and there seemed doubt whether he would ever reach the summit.

For a long distance, the road followed the side of a gorge in which a fine brook plunged and dashed.

We passed and repassed picturesque groups of Mazatec indians with their burdens.

The women wore _enaguas_, the lower part of which was brown, the upper white.