The procession stopped at Senor Quiero's _tienda_, and the old man opened both his heart and his bottles; spirits flowed freely to all who could crowd into the little shop and bottles and packs of _cigarros_ were sent out to the standard-bearers.

As a result we were given a vigorous explosion of rockets, and several pieces by the band, the drummer, and the _pitero_.
Beyond Mitla the valley narrows and the road rises onto a gently sloping terrace; when it strikes the mountains it soon becomes a bridle-path zigzagging up the cliffside.

As we mounted by it, the valley behind expanded magnificently under our view.

We passed through a belt of little oak trees, the foliage of which was purple-red, like the autumnal coloring of our own forests.

Higher up we reached the pine timber.