But one of my foremen, who had noticed my annoyance, came up to me and asked if I desired "to get rid" of him; if I did, said he, he knew how he could serve me so that nothing more would be heard from the Mexican! I gradually weeded out this unscrupulous element among the men, and replaced most of the American with Mexican muleteers, who are far superior in that particular line of business.

In hiring them, only one precaution had always to be observed: never to accept one unless he had a good recommendation from his village authorities or some prominent man in the neighbourhood.
The first village of any importance we passed was Fronteras.

It is built on the summit and slopes of an elevated plateau and looks extremely picturesque at a distance.

Seen close, however, it turns out to be a wretched little cluster of adobe, or sun-dried brick, houses.

Not only the town itself, but also all the ranches in the neighbourhood are erected on elevations, a precaution from former days against the bloodthirsty Apaches.
Not so very long ago Fronteras was quite an important place, numbering, it is said, some 2,000 inhabitants.