Here is the hut of the peon and the rancho of the small proprietor; but they are structures of a more substantial kind than in the region of the palm.

They are of stone.

Here, too, is the hacienda, with its low white walls and prison-like windows; and the pueblita, with its church and cross and gaily-painted steeple.

Here the Indian corn takes the place of the sugarcane, and I ride through wide fields of the broad-leafed tobacco-plant.

Here grow the jalap and the guaiacum, the sweet-scented sassafras and the sanitary copaiba.
I ride onward, climbing steep ridges and descending into chasms (_barrancas_) that yawn deeply and gloomily.