We left Chanandaigua early in the morning, for we had a long march before us, and desired to avoid the intense heat of midday as far as possible. The road led most of the way through an almost unbroken forest, interrupted at long intervals by a patch of corn or sugar-cane, with a footpath winding off to some invisible and isolated farmhouse. Except in the towns and villages, I do not remember seeing more than one building during our whole march;—the country seemed uninhabited, and the fat and fertile soil suffered for want of hands to trim its waste luxuriance. Among the strange trees of the forest, the mahogany seemed like an old acquaintance. Those that we saw were about the size of our largest oaks, and closely resembled them in the size and formation of the branches.

We passed this day through one or two small towns, the inhabitants of which came running to the doors to feast their eyes on so unusual a spectacle. Everywhere we were received with shouts of welcome;—even the little children joining in the cry of "los buenos Americanos!" Yet it must be confessed that our appearance was by no means prepossessing;—we looked more like a band of robbers or ragamuffins than the peaceful representatives of the greatest country in the known world, and perhaps owed more to our reals and revolvers than our vanity would have been willing to allow. But whatever may have been the reason, we had no cause to complain of incivility, and the only serious annoyance was the everlasting "poco tiempo." In the mouth of a Spaniard or an Indian these words possess the most perplexing significance. They are a sufficient answer to all complaint or expostulation. They are expected to feed the hungry, to quiet the impatient, and to satisfy the inquisitive. They afford the best possible refuge for indolence and stupidity, and there is reason to fear that as long as the Spaniard retains these words in his vocabulary he will continue to be distinguished for both those vices.

It was by a strange misnomer that we called our driver hombre. He had, to be sure, the outward semblance of a man, but he had no right to such a distinctive title. Curiosity, not that of the monkey, but of the philosopher, is man's most striking characteristic. Instead of defining him as a laughing animal or a cooking animal, I would define him as a curious animal. From this definition our hombre would certainly have been excluded. Of curiosity of any sort he had not, apparently, a single particle, and his intelligence was of the most contracted order. This was just the character for poco tiempo. He understood the uses of the phrase to perfection. If he delayed starting in the morning long after the last of our companions had disappeared, poco tiempo was his ready answer. If he loitered on the road without any assignable reason, when twilight was already stealing upon us, it was still poco tiempo. There was no use in getting into a passion,—in the first place he did not understand English, and if he had he would only have shrugged his shoulders a little more expressively, without losing a jot of his abiding complacency. We at length gave up the contest in despair, and submitted to a fate we could not resist, consoling ourselves with the reflection that an animal, who lived on cheese and sour Indian bread of the consistency of a bullet, must needs be of a very heavy, phlegmatic temper.

At several places by the roadside we found women and children with little tables covered with oranges, coarse brown sugar, lemonade, and bottles of milk. As bottles were apparently difficult to obtain, they were seldom willing to part with them; but rather than lose the sale of the milk, they would follow the cart a long distance, eagerly watching the bottle the whole time, as it rose from a horizontal to an upright position, as if fearful that that too would be swallowed by the voracious Americano. In spite of the intense heat we drank but little water on our journey, preferring to quench our thirst with oranges, of which I sometimes ate, or rather drank, twenty in a single day. They were not only far superior to any ever seen in the States, but surpassed, in almost the same degree, those we had eaten at Rio and Havana, the intensest heat of the tropics being required to bring this fruit to perfection. Of the pineapples I can only say, they seemed more fit to be the food of angels than of men; and if, as some suppose, our character be really affected by the nature of our food, then those who live on the pineapples of the equator must be of all men the most subtilized and ethereal. I am quite satisfied in my own mind the amiable Elia must, some time in his life, have visited Central America, or he never could have written with such feeling and unction on a subject that can be appreciated only by those who have been fortunate enough to enjoy similar opportunities. We travelled this day thirty-six miles, and came late in the evening to Leon. Our clumsy caravan, that seemed sufficiently rude and primitive in the depths of the forest, harmonized still less with the paved streets of a great and splendid city. It was like the relic of a barbarous age, and I could not help thinking that the inhabitants of Leon would regard it with as much curiosity as I had done myself. Yet it produced no greater sensation than a market wagon in Boston or New York,—our hombre drove carelessly along, past long blocks of lofty houses, and under magnificent cathedrals, without a thought of the ludicrous contrast we presented. He stopped at length before a hotel, where a crowd of our companions were already assembled. Some of them had been here several hours; they had eaten their supper, and were now grumbling in good set terms at the imposition that had been practised upon them. In the first place the supper was detestable, and in the second place there was not half enough of it. Putting these two together, and sagely concluding that the case could not be much worse, we determined to try our fortunes in another direction. An American, who had been residing several months in Leon, directed us to a private house, where he said we should be sure to obtain an excellent supper.

This house stood on one corner of the plaza, directly opposite the great cathedral. It presented the same appearance of squalid magnificence to which I have already alluded;—the walls were of stone, and the apartments lofty and spacious, but there were no carpets, no sofas, no mirrors, and no sign of comfort except a netted hammock of twisted grass swung between the corners of what must be called the parlour.

After a long delay, which Ohio bore with provoking good nature, supper was brought in by a fat seÑora, assisted by a peeping seÑorita, and displayed upon the rickety little table. The plates were of different patterns,—the cups were without saucers,—the knives without forks,—and, for want of a more convenient seat, Texas was fain to trust himself to the hammock;—but, as Ohio declared, with his mouth full of chicken, and eggs, and frijoles, it was a supper fit for a king; but then, unfortunately, we were no king, but four half-starved Californians. When our chicken, who had doubtless been the lean and hungry Cassius to some CÆsar of the dunghill, had disappeared almost bodily down our throats,—and when the eggs and beans had followed, without at all diminishing our ardour,—we, all at once, turned upon our hostess a look of inquiry mingled with the utmost complacency and benevolence. It was as much as to say, "So far good,—you have made, my dear seÑora! a very tolerable commencement,—after this little skirmish, we feel ready for the more important engagement that is to follow."

But the seÑora, looking coldly and ungratefully upon our enthusiasm, replies, that what we have just eaten is really and absolutely our supper, that there is, in fact, not another morsel of food in the house. Slowly and reluctantly we dropped our four reals into the skinny hands of the withered old beldame, and walked back to our hotel a sadder and wiser man.

Having slept very comfortably on the dirty floor of the dining-room, we walked out next morning to see the city. There can hardly be a greater contrast than that between the towns and cities of Central America and those of our own country. The latter are emphatically of to-day,—they have nothing to do with the past, and hardly any thing more to do with the future. If our buildings do not tumble down in the progress of erection, they are almost sure to be removed in a few years to give place to others. But the buildings of Leon seemed to have locked up in them the story of a thousand years, and as if they might live to tell of a thousand years to come. There are no unfinished houses, no piles of stone or lumber blocking up the streets, no sound of the saw, or pleasant tinkling of the mason's hammer. These things may have been some centuries ago, but one would rather suppose the whole city had suddenly sprung from the ground, like Minerva full grown from the head of Jupiter. Yet it has nothing of the warmth, and brilliancy, and fantastic variety of tropical vegetation;—instead of the gaudy kiosk and slender minaret, like bundles of sunbeams converted into stone, which harmonize so well with the glowing regions of the sun, there is nothing but a heavy, cubic monotony, better suited to the snows of Siberia, or Dickens' London fog.

The cathedral is a vast, ungainly structure, built entirely of stone, and with no pretensions to beauty; but being advantageously situated on one side of the great square, with several massive towers, it presents a very imposing and commanding appearance. Ascending to the top by a narrow, winding stairway, in the thickness of the wall, we obtained a grand and extensive prospect. From this elevated island of brick, and stone, and mortar, we overlooked an immense sea of foliage which closed around us on every side, dotted, here and there, with smaller islands, and watched over by the cloud-girdled, pyramidal mountain we had seen in ascending the Realejo, seemingly thrown forward, like a solitary sentinel, in advance of the mighty host behind. We stood on a building, and in the midst of a city belonging to the civilization of the old world, while all around lay the untamed barbarism of the new. The inhabitants of Leon are not Americans, but Europeans, and such as Europe saw two hundred years ago. They have gained nothing of new life and vigour by being transplanted on to this virgin soil, but seem rather to have lost what little they possessed. This country has not proved to them the harsh stepmother that New England was to our Puritan ancestors; but, like a foolish grandam, has spoilt them by her foolish indulgence. The result is that they can do nothing for themselves,—England supplies them with manufactures, and the United States furnish their flour. Their cities, without good roads to connect them with the country and with each other, languish and go out like scattered embers.

Yet the country is rich almost beyond compare. The forests abound in the most valuable timber, the soil is of inexhaustible fertility, and the year is a constant harvest. The sugar-cane, which in our Southern States requires to be renewed every three years, here continues to yield a sufficient return for ten, growing fifteen or twenty feet high, and as thick as a man's arm. Native labour can be obtained for a real a day. As far as our experience extends, the climate is extremely healthy. We were three weeks in the country, at the commencement of the rainy season, and especially liable to sickness from our long confinement, yet we lost only one man by disease, and he was attacked before we left the ship. Government holds out great inducement to actual settlers, and the finest land in the world can be obtained at a merely nominal value.

While we were at Leon, an offer was made to Ohio of so liberal a nature as almost induced him to stop short on his homeward journey, and forego the anticipated pleasure of seeing his wife and children for another year. He was to receive one hundred dollars a month, besides board and lodging; a shop and tools were promised at the expense of Government, and the privilege of working a third of the time on his own account was superadded.

Other artisans were also eagerly sought after. Thousands of muskets lay useless in the armories, because not a workman could be found who understood the mysteries of a lock—not the permutation, combination lock of Brahmah or Hobbs, but a simple gun-lock, the construction of which is known to every boy of twelve in the United States. But it is time to leave Leon and its helpless inhabitants. They reminded me constantly of the snail in the shell of a lobster, and of a little boy dressed in his father's clothes, and playing that he was a man.

We passed through Central America at the time of the civil war, and many of the streets of Leon were barricaded and guarded with mounted cannon. After leaving that city, we were told that we should enter the territory occupied by the hostile faction; and, to avoid all danger of ill-treatment, we were advised to keep as close together as possible. But nothing occurred to justify these apprehensions, or even to show that any war was raging. We met one day, in the thickest part of the wood, a dozen or twenty scarecrows, mounted on sorry horses, and armed with light lances and muskets; but, if these were a fair specimen of the Granadian chivalry, we should have had little to fear from their whole array. However, we were all of us desirous to avoid a collision, for it would certainly seem very ridiculous, after spending one or two years in earning perhaps as many thousands, to get killed just as we were ready to enjoy the fruits of our labour. This feeling, I have no doubt, moderated the ardour of more than one of our number who might otherwise have had no objection to the excitement of a skrimmage, or to take up arms in one or the other of the contending parties.

We left Leon about the 10th, a. m., and making only a short journey, stopped for the night at a little Indian village called Nigaroti—I am not responsible for the spelling—the population of which could not much have exceeded the number of our own caravan. It consisted of a small collection of houses or huts built of rude basket-work, daubed in some cases with clay, and covered with a shaggy thatch. Each house stood in an enclosure, formed by a hedge of most magnificent proportions. A species of cactus, planted in a single row, furnished a green marble wall of lofty columns, standing so close together that no animal larger than a squirrel could pass between. These walls were now in a dilapidated condition, reminding the spectator of the ruins of an ancient temple. Some of the columns were at least thirty feet in height, while others had been broken off at a few feet from the ground, and the fragments were still lying where they had fallen. They were all about eight inches in diameter from top to bottom, with small rings at regular intervals resembling the joints of the cane.

As there was no hotel, we quartered ourselves upon the inhabitants, who received us with the warmest demonstrations of friendship, and instantly set to work to prepare for us the best supper their limited means would allow. I here first witnessed the operation of making the tortilla, the favourite, and, as far as I could learn, the only form in which bread is eaten by the lower classes. At Acapulco and other cities we had seen them offered for sale in piles six inches high, and presenting a very tempting appearance. The natives ate them with great apparent relish, rolling them up into a cylinder, and plugging the opening with a small stopper of cheese. As we had hitherto, however, been able to obtain wheaten bread, I had only just tasted them out of curiosity, when I found they were far from being as good as they looked. But in this little village flour was, perhaps, never heard of, and in every house one or more occupants were now busy in preparing the hot and almost crispy tortilla. I watched the movements of our dusky maiden with great interest. She first crushed the corn, previously softened by boiling, into a uniform paste, by means of a common rolling-pin, then with great dexterity formed it into round balls or biscuits, one of which she placed on the bottom of a shallow earthen pan resting on a few embers. With the back of her clenched hand she spread it out over the dish, till it assumed the form of a buckwheat cake, though instead of the dimples that come and go on the surface of the latter, it was all over indented with the print of her knuckles. When one side was browned the cake was turned, and as the whole process required but a few minutes we soon had a high tower of tortillas smoking on our little table. There was the usual accompaniment of fried eggs and chicken. The tortillas served for plates as well as napkins, and the whole family stood ready to wait on us, and watching our every movement with the most ludicrous interest and delight.

There was the grandfather, still hale and vigorous; the young mother, with her infant in her arms, and half a dozen others scarce big enough to go alone. When we asked about her family, she laughed and blushed and pouted with true feminine coquetry, and quite vanquished the stout heart of our gallant Ohio. Perceiving that I had some difficulty in dissecting the joints of the chicken, she took up a fragment, and tearing it to pieces with her fingers, laid them before me, one after another, with an approving smile, and an exclamation of bueno at every mouthful. I had no doubt, from this proof of her hospitality, that she would have fed me with her fingers if I had desired. And, presently, another incident showed still more strongly her lofty disregard of what we, in our self-complacent wisdom, have styled the laws of decorum. As there was a want of plates, one of our party had cunningly appropriated to his own use that containing our scanty supply of eggs. Snatching the dish from his hands, the young seÑora, with the end of her forefinger, and with most amazing dexterity, divided the only remaining egg in the middle, and slid half of it on to Ohio's empty tortilla. "Bueno, bueno!" she exclaimed; and "Bueno!" faintly echoed Ohio, as he fell back on his seat, and surveyed with admiration the egg that had been so ruthlessly dissevered. The simple, unsophisticated beings around us mistook the nature of the mirth that followed this performance, and supposing it to arise from the satisfaction produced by so good a supper, joined in it with hearty good-will. But we had not yet learned all those uses of fingers which nature designed, but which civilization has discarded. A favourite beverage, with us as well as with the natives, was lemonade. To sweeten this delectable compound, they used the coarse black sugar of the country, which, to avoid the necessity of weighing, is commonly cast in small oblong cakes, as maple-sugar is often seen at home. Biting off a lump of the proper size, our hostess dropped it from her mouth into one of the little gourds that served for tumblers, and having stirred it with her finger, presented it to me with a simple grace that Hebe might have tried in vain to equal. After the scenes I had witnessed in the mines, and the far more disgusting exhibitions of life at sea, I must plead guilty of affectation in refusing anything from the hand of a woman. I courteously passed the gourd to my next neighbour, who, either not having witnessed the mode of preparation or proud of such an opportunity of displaying his gallantry, swallowed the whole at a single draught.

We rose from table in high good humour with ourselves and our entertainers, but our enthusiasm was not a little dampened by the eagerness they manifested to obtain immediate possession of our money. "Quatro reales," cried the grandfather, holding out his hand; "Quatro reales," simpered the young mother; "Quatro reales," screamed all the children in concert, and standing on tiptoe; while the sucking baby, on its mother's breast, almost threw itself into convulsions in trying to master the mysterious syllables.

As we intended to lodge and take breakfast with them, this impatience might seem to imply some doubt of our honesty. We attributed it, however, to a natural curiosity to feast their eyes on a larger sum of money than they had probably ever possessed. Though they had all their simple wants required, and might have been considered wealthy by their poorer neighbours, yet I have no doubt that fifty dollars would have been an ample equivalent for all their worldly possessions. A single glance showed us the inventory of all their household goods. Under a small open shed in one corner of the enclosure stood a rude forge—our entertainer was the village smith—with a few clumsy tools scattered around it. Their whole supply of crockery was displayed upon our little table. Gourds, of different sizes, served them for tea-cups, for coffee-pots, and for milk-pails. Their simple cookery was performed in a few vessels of earthenware. A few steps from the blacksmith's shop, stood the huge wicker basket containing their sleeping apartments. This consisted of two rooms, the first of which would undoubtedly have been the very smallest room in the world, if the second had not been still smaller. The larger one contained a rude bedstead, and a hammock was slung cornerwise across the other. There was no other furniture, and no window, but the open door and numerous cracks in the walls admitted sufficient light. As it was evident that, under ordinary circumstances, the greater part of the family would have to sleep out of doors, we had no hesitation in taking undivided possession.

We were roused by the old man two hours before day; and, going out into the yard, found the table set for breakfast, and the whole family eagerly awaiting our appearance. Secretly envying the hens and turkeys that were just settling themselves for their morning nap upon the branches of the high tree above, we sat down to breakfast by the light of the stars and an envious tallow candle. In addition to what we had for supper, they had, according to promise, provided each of us with a small gourd containing half a pint of milk—a luxury we seldom succeeded in obtaining except in the morning, either because, as Texas suggested, the heat of the day dried up the cows, or because the natives were too indolent to take the trouble.

After breakfast, the same scene was repeated as on the previous evening. Having obtained their quatro reales, and a medio apiece for lodging, we saw them huddling together round the forge, and counting their gains with an immense deal of jabbering and gesticulation. All of our companions were aroused at the same unseasonable hour, and, like ourselves, devoured with curiosity to learn the cause of so strange a phenomenon, but our ignorance of Spanish defeated all our efforts, and the subject yet remains in all its original obscurity.