It was down hill, and we had to pick our way with great care over the rough road, filled with loosened and separated blocks of ancient paving.
This district, in one respect, reminded us of the Tarascan country.
Every house along the road was a sales-place, where drinks, cigarettes, fruit and bread were offered, and each had the little boarded window, open when sales were solicited, and closed when business stopped.

The houses, too, were log structures with shingled four-pitched roofs, and the houses in the town were well built, cement-walled, with low-sloped, far projecting tile roofs supported on trimmed beams.

One might as well have been in Patzcuaro, Uruapan, or Chilchota.

Again the _cochero_; we had told him that the stuff should go to the _jefatura_, and not to the hotel; he told us with great insolence that the _jefatura_ was closed, and that it would be impossible to see the _jefe_ and that the stuff would remain at the hotel; he followed us, when we went to the _jefe's_ house, and great was his surprise when he found our order efficacious.
We had a long talk with the _jefe_, who told us that few indians lived in the town, and that none of them were Totonacs; he assured us that, though there were no Totonacs in Huachinango, we could find them in abundance at Pahuatlan, to which he recommended us to go.

The nearest indian town to Huachinango is Chiconcuauhtla, but it is Aztec.