I had already learned in Batopilas that the party of Indians who, about two years ago, had been exhibited by a now deceased traveller as representative cave-dwellers, had been gathered mainly in the neighbourhood of Yoquibo.

My visitor had been one of the troupe, and I was eager to find out what impression the civilised world had made on this child of nature, who had never known anything but his woods and his mountains.

Therefore, almost my first question was, "How did you like Chicago ?" "It looks very much like here," was the unexpected reply.

What most impressed him, it seemed, was neither the size of the city nor its sky-scrapers, though he remembered these, but the big water near which those people dwelt.

He had liked riding in the railroad cars, but complained that he had not had enough to eat on the journey.
His experience on the trip had familiarised him with the white man and his queer, incomprehensible ways, and made him something of a philosopher.