In spite of this drawback, it was pleasant to be out in the country, which was growing delightfully green after the rains, and gave us a foretaste of what we might expect.
The last thing to do, after all other preparations had been completed, was to get into the camp three small bags containing seven hundred and fifty Mexican dollars, since among the Mexican country population paper money is hardly of any use.

There was some talk about a raid on the camp by some toughs in the neighbourhood, but we made our start unmolested, on September 9, 1890.
Thanks to my letters from the Mexican Government, I had no trouble at the custom-house in San Pedro.

I stopped a few days there, nevertheless, to buy some Mexican pack-saddles, called aparejos, which, roughly speaking, are leather bags stuffed with straw, to be fastened over the mules' backs.

Through the courtesy of the Mexican custom officials I also secured two excellent and reliable Mexican packers, to take the place of some Americans who had been fighting in the camp and proved themselves unfit for my purpose.
As a mark of regard, one of the custom officers invited me to act as godfather to his child.

I had to support the baby's head during the ceremony, while an elderly woman held the little body.