Officers were on horses, common soldiers on foot, pack-mules were laden with luggage, the women (accompanying their husbands) were weighed down with coffee-pots, bundles of clothes, and babies, all strapped on their backs together.
They were a motley crew.

At Jiquipilas a company was encamped in the plaza.

Our mule, Chontal, took particular delight in running into such bands of marching soldiers as we encountered, causing no end of trouble.
On one occasion, as a group approached us, he ran forward at a lively pace into their midst and tangled himself up with a party of prisoners,--apparently soldiers in disgrace,--who, tied together with ropes, were under guard.

As we rode up to capture him, I felt a hand at that coat pocket which contained our money-bag and, turning suddenly, found one of the guard trying to draw the bag of money from my pocket.

I struck at him with my whip and he slunk away.
The last day of travel before reaching Tuxtla Gutierrez, we passed one of the few pretty places on this dreary road, Agua Bendita.