before the government officials appeared. At length they came, the doctor and two customs officers. But here we were doomed to disappointment and vexation. We were adjudged undesirable citizens, and told that we must not leave the ship unless we were willing to have the undesirable qualities fumigated out of us and our baggage, and then submit to four days in limbo. This was hard indeed. We were bubonic plague suspects, and they did not want us! The yellow flag was hoisted at our masthead, and all boats warned away.

Randall and I were in a quandary. Fumigation would doubtless injure, if not ruin, my photographic films, and the quarantine pen for ourselves was horrible to contemplate-four days with a medley of Chinese, Koreans and what not! It was a question with us whether it would be better to face fumigation and the pesthouse here, or go on to San Blas, the next port of call to the south, and take the chance of passing quarantine there without detention. The chief consideration against going to San Blas was a rumor that horses and mules were scarce at that port, and we might not be able to get animals to

carry us upon our inland journey. We were discussing this, when a good friend came to our rescue and decided it for us.

One of our fellow passengers, Mr. Edwin Emerson, a ranchman of Mountain View, California, was bound for San Blas, en route to the Hacienda San Nicholas, a hacienda two days' journey inland, in which he was interested. Besides himself, his party consisted of Lorenzo L. Gates, manager of the hacienda, and Charles Bigelow, scientific farmer. Mr. Emerson suggested that we join them. He offered to supply us with saddle horses and pack mules, and invited us to accept the hospitality of the Hacienda San Nicholas, and make it our base of operations while in Tepic Territory. This helped us out of our disagreeable situation, and at the same time offered unusual opportunities to see the country under the guidance of Gates, who had lived for several years in Mexico, and was familiar with its language and customs. It is needless to say that with due thankfulness and promptness we accepted Mr. Emerson's invitation, paid our passage to San Blas, and defied the port doctor and customs officers to do their worst.

STIRRING UP ANTI-AMERICAN SENTIMENT

We lay listlessly at anchor all day, during which time the port authorities fumigated the freight

in the hold and the baggage of the one cabin passenger and the steerage passengers who were going ashore. Mazatlan newspapers were brought aboard and Randall translated for me. One of them contained an editorial upon the granting of Magdalena Bay to the United States Navy as a practice ground. "The robbers have come," the editorial read. "This is their entering wedge. Mexico is at their mercy. Who can doubt that they have designs upon our beloved country? The Government in its weakness has granted this concession of Magdalena Bay, and permitted these brigands to gain a foothold upon our soil. The his

splendor, with a gorgeous sunset, followed by a full and brilliant moon.

On our second morning at Mazatlan the port officers came aboard again, and very inconsiderately roused every one out of his bed at half-past six, and lined us up on deck --cabin passengers, steerage passengers and crew-while the doctor re-examined us for bubonic plague. He found

us still healthy and vigorous, but did not remove the quarantine restrictions. He could not understand how we had escaped the raging scourge of plague that every Mexican believed existed in San Francisco. We were told that once, several years ago, the plague appeared in Mazatlan, and before it was subdued the town was all but depopulated. Hence their fear and apparent caution now. I say "apparent caution," for later in the day cargadores came aboard, discharged the cargo for the port into lighters, mingled with the passengers, and passed back and forth between the ship and the city at will; and yet passengers were not permitted this privilege. They locked one door securely, and left the other wide open.

tory of Texas and California will be repeated. The object of these northern robbers is plain. It is to grab our country and absorb it."

Mazatlan is a picturesque place. A lighthouse stands high upon the small mount Cerro del Creston, at the north entrance of the shallow bay-the highest lighthouse in the world, save Gibraltar and the south entrance is guarded by rugged rocks. In the distance lies the town, with its cathedral spires standing prominently against the sky; below, cocoanut palms and thatched roofs; and in the blue background the towering peaks of the Cordilleras complete the scene. A cooling breeze modified the rigors of the midday tropical heat, and the night was one of

Three days in Mazatlan, and we were off, and the following morning anchored in front of San Blas, where we were actually to disembark.

IN OLD SAN BLAS

There was little formality to be gone through here. The port doctor came aboard, looked at the whites of our eyes, and passed us with the wave of a hand. We were more than ten days out of San

Francisco-the period of incubation for bubonic plague and they considered us harmless and inoffensive now. We were no longer suspected of harboring dark designs upon Mexico, and the self-respect that we lost at Mazatlan was regained at San Blas.

Emerson buckled his revolver on and told us we had better follow his example before going ashore, as it was quite fashionable to wear them. We did so, but I felt very much as a young man does when he dons his first evening clothes and appears in public in them; and though I pushed my big Colt back under my coat tails to hide it as much as possible from the gaze of the populace, it would protrude in spite of me, and seemed like a ton's weight upon my belt. However, when the boat came that was to take us ashore, and I saw that at least one of the boatmen wore a belt full of cartridges with a revolver in a leather holster dangling from it, I felt better about it. The boatmen were mozos (servants) from the Hacienda San Nicholas, who had been dispatched from the interior ranch with horses and mules to meet Emerson and his party.

On the edge of the low, flat ground, which stretches from the beach to the foothills of the Cordilleras, punctuated by one abrupt bluff a mile from the sea, the town lies, half-hidden by an exuberant growth of tropical foliage and stately cocoanut palms. Its main street, running up from the sea, is lined with substantial, mortar-covered, whitewashed stone buildings of Spanish architecture, flanked on either side by crooked, narrow streets, along which are massed flimsily constructed huts thatched with palm

leaves and sea grass. The effect of the whole is somewhat oriental, and wholly picturesque, as one approaches the sandy beach, though a more intimate view robs it of its oriental aspect, and makes it typically Mexican.

Barelegged, bareheaded cargadores and sandaled peons, wearing skin-tight trousers and immense high-crowned, broadbrimmed sombreros of straw or felt-a brown-skinned, black-haired medleycrowded around us in eager curiosity as we stepped ashore. Emerson's two mozos, with the help of half a dozen of the cargadores, carried our baggage to the customs house, where a polite officer, who spoke good English, passed it with a very cursory examination, and the first ordeal-one that every one dreads upon entering a strange country was over.

AN EXPERIENCE WITH THE CUSTOMS OFFICER

But Emerson had troubles of his own ahead, in the shape of two pigs that he was taking to his hacienda. He suggested to

the officer that the pigs should be passed free of duty, as they would be of decided benefit to the country in improving the stock.

"Oh, yes, certainly we pass a th' pig," said the polite official. "We carra much for th' improve of stock of Mexico, but Señor Emerson will be pleased to signa some paper first."

Emerson, not to be outdone in politeness by the official, bowed low and said he would, and it was right there his troubles began. All the afternoon he was kept busy signing documents. Now and again we met him, coat on arm, one hand grasping a handkerchief with which he desperately mopped perspiration from his

face, the other hand filled with papers, rushing up and down the scorching street on the trail of an official. He wrote his name on twenty-seven different documents for twenty-seven different officials that afternoon, and each time had to purchase and affix an internal revenue stamp. I never did learn how much he paid for the stamps, but the pigs were admitted duty free.

When I refer to the afternoon I mean after two o'clock. At eleven in the forenoon all business stops, all shops close, the people go to their siesta and the streets are deserted.

Our formalities at the custom house were completed by ten o'clock, and we went at once to the Hotel Americano, where we were received with much formality, and shown to our rooms-two rooms for the five of us. They were furnished with a washstand, a couple of chairs in each, and with beds about the size of ordinary cots. These beds were nothing more nor less than a single piece of canvas stretched over a frame, with a sheet over that and a straw or hay pillow. A canopy of cheesecloth, about four feet high, enclosed each. The canopy was provided as a protection against sand flies and mosquitoes. The floor was bare.

Our rooms were on the second or top floor of the house. On one side windows looked upon the main street, while our doors opened upon a balcony overlooking the hotel patio, or courtyard, in which grew cocoanut palms, banana plants, lemon trees with ripe fruit that we could reach from the balcony, and many brilliant tropical flowers and plants. Also there were sand flies and fleas, and when we drew our chairs to the balcony to smoke a while and cool off, while the mozos brought up our baggage, we were startled by a lizard about eighteen inches long, a row of horns down the back of his head, and glaring eyes, which looked like "the devil himself," as Emerson said, though we were told it was only an aquila, and harmless. I did not care to associate with him, however, and let him see it, and he went away. His personal appearance was against him.

At dinner, which was eaten under our balcony and out of doors, where we could enjoy the fragrance of the flowers and foli

age of the patio, we had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Mr. William Ramos, a banana grower, who lived at the hotel and had the distinction of being the only American resident of San Blas. Ramos was delighted to see us, because we were Americans, and he was more than a little lonesome.

A DINNER IN MEXICO

The dinner began with soup, followed by an array of courses, mostly compounds of things I did not recognize, and nearly all very hot with chili-peppers, but on the whole palatable. Erijolos (beans) were served just before the dulce. That is a warning that you have had all you are going to get, and to satisfy yourself upon them, if you have not had enough of the other things. They were well cooked and good. The bread was in the form of rolls, sweetened, and of poor quality—“pan blanco" it is called. It is the characteristic bread, however, of Mexico-when bread is to be had at all. The coffee was of good quality, but, like all Mexican coffee, muddy and very strong. It is burned black in roasting, ground to a powder, boiled and served grounds and all. You are supposed to drink the grounds.

After dinner Ramos took us about the town. It has, he informed us, about two thousand inhabitants. The buildings on the main street, as I have hinted, are mostly of substantial Spanish architecture, while the others are mere shacks of poles and mud, with thatched roofs and earthen floors. The main street is paved with cobblestones, through which grass grows, and from the sea front to the customs house a miniature railroad is laid, on which a push car is operated to carry freight from the landing to the warehouses.

Men and women lounged in the little shops, drinking mescal and tequila, their native whiskey. The latter is simply a better quality of the former. The best shops are kept by Chinamen, and everything is sold in them, including dry goods and fruit. We stopped at one and drank some cocoanut milk and then ate the soft meat from the green fruit with a spoon. They do not eat the cocoanut here after it has ripened. We also tested the oranges, green-skinned but ripe and sweet, all seed