A Mexican diligence is ornamented with an assistant to the driver in the shape of a nimble young fellow, whose business it is to throw stones at the mules. He occupies the front seat alongside the driver, and whenever the mules have the appearance of commencing to walk—which occurs about every half minute—he jumps nimbly to the ground, makes a dash ahead for the leaders, with his hands and pockets full of stones, and pelts the unfortunate beasts well. Of course they make a tremendous burst of speed, and he grasps the straps on the side of the coach and swings himself on top; then the leaders look around, and, seeing him up out of the way, they slacken down their pace again, when the performance is repeated. Sometimes the mules do not wait to be pelted, but when they see their enemy stoop down to gather the missiles they gallop wildly ahead, leaving the road runner to make the best time he can to catch up; which having done, he takes his revenge on the mules from above at his leisure.
If there is one thing in which the Mexicans can outdo us more than another it is in stage or diligence driving, and this too with animals that will not compare with ours in size or strength, although, in proportion to their size, probably more enduring. They generally make up in numbers what they lack in strength, for they hitch them in troops and droves, so to speak. When we first started we had two groups of four and two leaders; then we changed to four abreast and two wheelers; then, as the country grew a little rougher, they hitched two leaders to the six, making eight altogether. Now, again, we dropped to six mules in pairs, as we see them at home. As the last stretch was a tough one, we again had ten mules in sets of fours with two wheelers. This over a very rough mountain road. Here was versatility in mule driving that I never expected to see among a people that are generally reported by most American writers to be of a decidedly non-versatile character.
When the Mexican mules are through staging they "skirmish" for a living, grazing off such grass as can be had, or in lieu thereof browsing on cottonwood and willow bush, not even disdaining a corner of a corral or a wagon tongue or two if times are going a little hard with them. Late in the afternoon we realized that we were entering the foothills of the mountains, for the road wound through many picturesque little ravines and ascended the rocky beds of the small creeks, often taking to the middle of the stream when the cañon was very narrow or thickly strewn with bowlders. It was quite a common occurrence for the stage to be overturned on the road—if road it could be called—and the most decided talent in mule driving was necessary to guide the groups of little animals safely between the mossy rocks. Toward evening the walls of the long cañon, with its broken craigs and fantastic turrets, almost met overhead, so narrow was it; but after a few turns and twists it widened, and after rounding the peak of a high mountain, entered another cañon, where, strung out its whole length, was the town of Cusihuiriachic. I do not intend to throw the name of this Mexican town at my readers without giving a plan, section, and elevation of it as a key to the riddle. We were now in the land of the Tarahumari Indians of West Central Chihuahua, this long-winded name applying to them just as equivalent Indian names are found in Maine and a few other places in the Union. This large Indian tribe, probably numbering from 15,000 to 18,000 (the most authentic estimate I can get places them at 16,000, although I have heard them estimated at 30,000 in strength), was once scattered over a considerable territory, and their names are still given to most of the places in the country they occupied before the advent of Europeans.
IN CUSIHUIRIACHIC CAÑON.
Wherever there is water (so I was told by an old resident among these strange and little known people, Don Enrique Muller) the name of the camp or town alongside ended in chic, as in the example I have given above, as also in Bibichic, Carichic, Baquiriachic, and a few others I could mention—"all wool and a yard wide." The rest of the word Cusihuiriachic, still long enough for five or six more names, means, says my authority, "the place of the standing post." When they ruled their own country many years ago the principal means of punishment employed was the upright post, to which the offenders were tied and treated to a Delaware dissertation. Such is the origin of the big name of the little Mexican town of Cusihuiriachic, situated about halfway between the city of Chihuahua and the great mining belt of the Sierra Madres, west and southwest of the city, and to which it is a secondary distributing point. The diligence ride is made to it in one day, a little over seventy-five miles. The place claims five thousand people, and there is but one street up the narrow gulch, which, however, is long enough to justify its name. It is wholly a mining town, and has some important quartz mills strung out along the little stream through its principal and only street. When we reached our destination for the night we found a square adobe inclosure, with an enormous gateway, through which the stage rattled and then stopped in a small court for us to dismount. From there we passed through another large gate into a similar court, filled with a variegated assortment of mules, and after dodging among them, to cross to the opposite side, we climbed three or four steps, and entered the most primitive hotel any civilized man's eyes ever rested on.
The patio or interior plaza of the hotel was, upon our arrival, being used as a cockpit, and one or two hundred people were jammed therein. Beside the Mexicans, there was one immense, brawny Chinaman. In the middle of the pit lay two dead cocks; one belonged to the Chinaman, and the other to some member of the Mexican aristocracy of the town. An adverse decision had just been given regarding the victory of the Chinaman's cock, and he was in the act of rolling up his sleeves to pitch into the crowd and vindicate the prowess of his fowl; fortunately our timely arrival prevented any further strife by diverting attention to us, while the host was dragged from the midst of the fray to hunt up a key to unlock one of the narrow pens—called rooms—that overlooked the mule corral. Here, on a dirty brick floor, my bedding was spread, and I slept to a chorus of squealing mules, which came in through the grated, wooden-shuttered window. And right here I may say that I know of no better opening for Americans of small means than starting and keeping hotels in Mexican towns, where decent accommodations of the kind are wanting, and where a great many Americans, as well as English and other foreigners, pass through. I could mention fifty such towns beside the example given. In the town referred to we were crowded, four and six together, into those small pens—all travelers passing backward and forward on business connected with mining interests or similar industries. It seemed to be the universal custom of this portion of the country to get up at three o'clock to take the diligence, no matter how long or short the drive was to be. We were going only forty miles farther the next day to Carichic; the diligence returned nearly eighty miles to Chihuahua, and another stage line branched off for Guerrero, to the northwest; but it appeared necessary that passengers should rise at the same hour in order that all the coaches might get away at the same time.