The final ascent was sharp and difficult, up a hill of red or purple slate, which splintered into bits that were both slippery and sharp to the feet of our poor animals.

Just as the sun was setting and dusk fell, we reached the miserable pueblo of Santa Maria Albarradas.

It was situated on a terrace or shelf, and its little houses were made of red or purple adobe bricks, and thatched with grass.

Little garden patches and groups of cultivated trees surrounded the houses.

The church was little larger than the dwellings, and was constructed of the same clay, thatched with the same grass.