ranks foremost, of which I saw a number of large bars weighing several hundred pounds each, in quite a crude state, and containing in their composition both gold and silver. These bars are shipped as far as Baltimore to be refined.

The territory is to the mineralogist or geologist one of rare interest, abounding in mineral wealth, and precious stones of all kinds are found in large quantities. Agates, aqua marines, garnets (found near Cummings and Wingate and brought in by the Indians), opals, amethysts, beryl, topaz, and chalcedony, form the principal

ones.

After spending as much time as I could spare at Las Vegas, I again took the train en route for the ancient city of Santa Fé. On the way there we passed Bernal Mountain, or, as it is more frequently termed, "Starvation Peak." This curious mountain rises to a considerable height, and its peak is an abrupt mass of naked rock of about two acres in extent and looks like the ruins of some ancient tower. It is, except from one point, inaccessible. The peculiar name of "Starvation Peak" is derived from a tradition that in years past, when savage met savage in bloody, barbarous warfare, a body of Pueblo Indians took refuge on its summit from their deadly foes, the Apaches, who, being unable to reach them, quietly waited until death by the horrible monster starvation made them conquerors. To-day, on the edge of the cliff, can be seen by one standing on the plain below, two crosses about eleven feet high forcibly wedged in the clefts of the rocks, and these, upon a clear day, stand out as a thread upon the horizon. From the peak the view is beyond descriptive power of words, and well worth the labor of ascent, which is difficult but interesting. The sides of the mountain are covered with a variety of stones, and the vegetation is varied, but consists principally of cedar, pine, and scrub-oak, while cactus and numberless wildflowers flourish beneath the feet.

At the very foot of the mountain is a beautiful rock-basined spring of icy water, and near by, throwing mournful shadows, some piles of stone -the ruins of an ancient dwelling.

From this point to Baughl's Siding is a short

distance, and near Baughl's Siding is a point of much historic interest-the ruins of the old town and church of Pecos. Of this church, which is several centuries old, many timbers are still in perfect preservation, but it is fast suffering at the

THE RIO DEL NORTE.

| hands of vandal excursionists. It was built in an imposing position on an elevation overlooking the beautiful Pecos Valley, and round about are still to be found many pieces of broken pottery and bits of obsidian supposed to have been brought as offerings by the worshipers, as they are found nowhere else in the vicinity.

From the ruined town and deserted sanctuary

I passed to the place which at present bears the name of Pecos, a village truly Mexican, and containing, as do all of any pretensions, its church and priest. These priests are principally Frenchmen and speak execrable Spanish, but the natives, taught to do so from their infancy, respect and revere them. They are not a bad set of men, either, as a rule, being sociable and good-natured, and, I might remark, their wine is excellent.

Our first meal at this place was taken at a sort of inn, and the remembrance of it will stay by me for a long time, because of the tiny worms and flies' legs in the sugar. It excited no comment from others at the table, however, and I suppose they were used to such things and did not mind it. I make mention of this incident, that others who follow me may bring their own sugar-bowls along.

The town of Pecos is irrigated by the Pecos River, the loveliest stream in all New Mexico. All the lands here are watered by irrigation, and in many places the acequias are picturesque in the extreme, being raised on piles or carried around rocks in wooden aqueducts, and the river is often dammed to give the proper fall.

I was now joined by a Frenchman named Desmond, whose history would weave a tale equaling fiction, and together we started on a trip up the crystal Pecos. The length of our journey would necessitate taking three day's provisions along, so we were forced to add another member to our party-a burro, which is the Mexican name for what we would call a jackass. He was a patient, good-natured little jackass, scarcely larger than a dog, but very strong and supple and capable of carrying heavy burdens. His shortness of stature was very convenient sometimes. If you were riding him and desired to dismount, it would only be necessary for you to stand up and let him walk from under. On him we loaded all the necessary provisions and utensils, and while the Frenchman walked on ahead I made up the rear with our little servant between us. He was very lazy and lagged a good bit, and then I had to poke him with a stick to remind him of duty. In this fashion we traveled a number of miles through the valley, which is cultivated in patches after a rude way, producing wheat, corn, oats, beans, and tobacco, with but little tillage.

The varied beauty of our surroundings as we wound along the banks of the stream was a source

of continued pleasure. The valley is very narrow, being only about a mile wide in some places, and in its narrowest parts only a hundred yards or so; hedged in on both sides by lofty mountains in an unbroken range.

After journeying for several hours, Desmond told me we were at the foot of a mountain, at the top of which was an old mine worked centuries ago by the Aztecs.

He had visited it before and found it interesting, so I determined to have a look also.

We began to ascend the mountain, burro and all, and when about two-thirds of the way had been accomplished, being thoroughly worn-out with our exertions, and finding a clear-flowing spring near by, we determined to stop awhile for rest and some dinner.

Two

The meal over, we started on again, but dense thickets bestrewed the way with difficulties. or three times our gentle burro, with his pack, became firmly wedged and unable to move, but we extricated him as often as this occurred, pressed boldly on, and reached the mine. This old mine, which is no doubt valuable, was for many years unknown, as the entrance had been hidden by a large triangular stone which fitted the aperture closely and effectually concealed it, until a few years since, when an unusually heavy rain storm washed it loose and it caved inward.

We entered the labyrinth of gloom, not without considerable danger from loose stones, and explored it with pine torches. It was black and dreary, with crumbling rocks on every hand, and phantom shadows from our torches lurked in the farthest corners. Upon emerging into open air again we were very well satisfied in having escaped with a few scratches in attempting to avoid a falling rock which Desmond displaced; and for my part I preferred daylight, anyhow.

The sombre shadows of the mine brought strange thoughts to my mind, and I wandered back to ancient times and the strange people then inhabiting this land.

Our trip down the mountain was a shorter one than the ascent had been, and its chief difficulty was to prevent going too rapidly. Upon reaching level ground on the other side, and after some further travel, we reached the little village of El Matcho. Early next morning we went to the falls near by to fish. The first flush of the rising sun crimsoning the white foam of the hurrying

waters produced a striking effect, and the wind waving through the tree-tops, ar.d the roaring of the crystal flood, made strange, weird music. Our nook was pent in on one side by the abrupt rising mountains and on the other glorified by the various foliage of many trees, and graced by the swaying thickets beyond which, in glimpses, shone the bright green of the growing corn or the yellow sheen of ripened wheat; and here we fished about an hour, returning with a fine mess of speckled trout, some among which measured as much as thirteen inches.

I must here mention the frugal manner in which these people live. During long years, or, rather,

paid next night by getting into a wheat-field, and I was compelled to pay fifty cents damages. In return for this ill behavior I lent him to our host to bring a load of fire-wood from the mountains. At this place we witnessed the dedication of a church-a ceremony not devoid of interest. The people, of their own accord, had built an uglylooking, irregular adobe building, very much like a big mud-box, and with no pretensions to orthodox church shape. A priest from the town of Pecos was to consecrate it, and to do this he ranged the people in procession in front and to the left of the church door. At the head he placed a man carrying a large tin cross; then the

throughout their lives, shut out from civilization, they have, like the Indians, accustomed themselves to do with the barest necessities. A mattress to lie on, a blanket to cover them, a sheep-skin to sit upon, windows without glass, or, in some cases, glazed with bits of mica gotten from the mountains in which they live, bread, generally of corn and without leaven, and coffee sans sugar, with now and then a piece of goat's flesh, is their usual fare. They raise enough tobacco for their own consumption, but after a very primitive fashion, letting the plant grow about as it pleases, and plucking the leaves as they grow large enough for

use.

While we breakfasted, our donkey presented himself in the doorway and complacently waited for the bits of bread we gave him. I formed quite an attachment for the little fellow, which he re

women were put two by two behind him and the men followed. Last of all came the priest, sprinkling water from a ewer in his hand and throwing it by means of a large brush of reeds. This necessary formula gone through with, the priest entered the building and mass was said. He got fifteen dollars for his morning's work.

At night we attended a dance. In these entertainments, when not dancing, the men congregate in one end of the room and smoke, while the women sit on benches around the wall at the other end; no conversation is carried on between the sexes, and all love-making is done by a whispered word or squeeze of the hand. The people are very ignorant, very few being able to read or write.

Next morning we started on our trip further up the valley to reach the cave of El Espiritu Santo,