CHAPTER IX.
Arrival at Batopilas--Ascent from Batopilas to the Highlands of the Sierra--A Tarahumare who had been in Chicago--An Old-timer--Flight of Our Native Guide and its Disastrous Consequences--Indians Burn the Grass All Over the Country--Travelling Becomes too Difficult for the Animals--Mr.Taylor and I Go to Zapuri--Its Surroundings--The Pithaya in Season.
We continued our way toward the south, crossing Barranca de Cobre where it is 3,300 feet deep.

The track we followed was fairly good, but led along several dangerous precipices, over which two burros rolled and were killed.

The highest point we reached on the track over the highlands south of the barranca was 8,300 feet.

There seemed to be a divide here, the climate being cool and moist, and the farthest ranges toward the south and west enveloped in mist and fog.

Although Barranca de Batopilas is not as narrow and impressive as the barranca we had just left, still the mighty gap, as we looked into its hazy bottom from the highlands, presented an imposing, awe-inspiring sight.
Following the windings of the well-laid-out road we descended into the canon and made camp a few miles this side of the town of Batopilas.