Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-06-13
THE WILLIS OF MEXICO,
Experiences Which Befall the Overland Tray.
eler In That Country

eler IN That Country
| Leaving the City of Mexico you travel
southeasterly for about two hundred
miles, passing numerous small Indian
villages which seem to consist mainly of
naked children and dogs, and reach the
City of Huetamo. This is an old Spanish
town of about two thousand inhabitants,
the main feature of which, like ali other
| Spanish towns, Is the plaza, a large
| square, around which are about all the
stores the town contains. Sunday being
market day, this plaza is quite interest
| ing to stranger. The natives from the
surrounding country come in upon that
day to sell their garden truck, salt, tobac-
co, handmade blankets, straw goods,
ropes, and goodness only knows what not.
| -Four upright poles are planted in the
| ground, cross poles fastened to them, and
| over all is laid grass mat, thus making
| innumerable little stalls, where you can
obtain most articles you need and far
| greater number of articles Joa cannot
| conceive as being of any possible use to
mankind
Now mount your horse and come with
me. We leave Huetamo behind us and
ride forward toward What seems to be a
solid wall of mountains; the road is fair,
| that Is after you have beet over some
others in this country, and you ride for
ward through a lovely valley file with
fruit trees and flowers; the air is invig-
Grating at this time of the year, your
horse knows he is going home, and you
swing along at good pace, knowing that
the following day your road will be but a
cowpath over the mountains and YOU
must make your thirty-fve miles to day
or you will not reach the mine upon the
| following day.
Small mountain streams are crossed,
many little Indian huts are passed, and
far ahead of you appears tiny moving
speck. You know what it is as nearer
and nearer you approach each other, I'M
til finally you perceive an Indian, with
his knapsack tightly fastened to his
shoulders, swing along at his running
walk. He is the mail. No stop for him,
he must be on time, and with a "buenos
dias" be is passed, and still you ride on.
The sun now become intensely hot, for
if is nearing noon, and about that hour
| you reach a small Indian hut, where you
halt for dinner. Two women, one child,
| and eleven dogs constitute this house
hold during the daytime, and if you sue
coed in getting couple of eggs and some
corn bread you consider yourself fortu-
nate. Horses are unsaddled and allowed
| to roam at will while you stretch yourself
under the welcome shade to go to sleep.
just when you begin to dose you are rude
ly awakened by harsh voice shr1eking
into your ear the single word; "Yaw
This means ready; so you rouse yourself,
eat your egg and bread, drink your black
coffee, light a cigarette, frown at the
woman, and doze again.
The road is fairly good to Janindipo,
says "a correspondent OF the New York
Times, but you can rarely 60 faster than
a walk, as your horse must pick his way
through winding paths, over loose stones,
over fallen trees, across swollen streams,
and woe betide him if he slips, and woe
betide you, for many time slip would
mean death to horse and man, and you
look sometimes with shudder at the
hundreds and hundreds of feet below y GU.
But you are riding mountain horse and
have no fear as he climbs up or slides
down places at which the proverbiR goat
would hesitate.
The scenery now becomes wild in the
extreme and you commence to realize that
you are going farther and farther from
civilization; houses become a rarity; few
roarous barking at your horses head; the
youthful savage in his pristine glory no
longer diversifes nature, and you still
ride on. The sun rises, throwing beauti-
ful lights and shades upon the mountains
the road grows narrower and rougher;
huge trees, with their parasitic compan-
ions, call forth your admiration, although
Often seen before, you are fairly in the
Wilds.
By noon you reach Jauindipo, a small
cluster of Indian huts, where pigs roam
at will through the novels, where every
thing and every one is dirty, and where
innumerable insects cause you to think
that life is not worth living. But here
you must stop for dinner or starve, 80 you
stop, and glad you are for a Mexican
omelet, corn bread aud q cup of coffee,
let alone the fact that your horses have q
hard afternoon before them and must
rest. No waiting until three O'Clock to-
day. The mine is only about sixteen
miles away, but sixteen miles n northern
horse would face, for now you have only
a COW path over the mountains, and as
your horse steps from rock to rock,
climbing steadily up, up, up, never falter
ing, never swervipg, never hesitating, you
cannot but love the noble animal who
carries you so steadily and surely for
ward.
At length the top of the mountain is
reached and what sights burst upon you.
Below you for mile upon mile stretches
an immense valley, and you follow the
course of winding streams as they thread
their way in and out along the base of
huge plateaus and embryo mountain.
that rise here and there upon every side.
Here can be seen the palm in all its glory,
the cactus in its numerous varieties, and
nature in her widest disport. "Oh, what
a ranch" would be the frstcry of a stock
man. "Oh, how beautiful" the cry of
the artist, and both would be right.
winding path now leads down into the
valley, small streams are crossed, q hor
ribly stony path is left behind, one more
river, one terribly long hill, one more de
scent, and we are at the mines.
The steamer Lubbock has arrived from
Samoa and brings the information that
ha or