Whenever anything disagreeable is happening in the country, Vera Cruz is sure to get its full share.

One step outside the gate, and we are among the sand-hills that stretch for miles and miles round Vera Cruz.

We are at last on the high lands of Mexico, the districts which at least three different races have chosen to settle in, neglecting the fertile country below.

If you are a married man resident in Cuba, you cannot get a passport to go to the next town without your wife's permission in writing.

Even if severe wounds are given, the Indian has many chances in his favor, for his organization is somewhat different from that of white men, and he recovers easily from wounds that would kill any European outright.

Aching all over, we reached level ground again, and Mr. Christy withdrew his claims, and agreed that no road anywhere else could possibly be so bad as a Mexican road; a decision which later experiences only served to confirm.