That all their children are not killed off every month by falling from the elevations is shown by the fact that we saw a few of them playing in a little "clearing" in the brush at the bottom of the cañon. But we did not see them very long, for as soon as they got sight of the leading member of our party they fled to the brush and caves, and a pointer dog could not have flushed one five minutes later.
I have already described some of their strange methods of hunting game. In fishing they build dams in the mountain streams and poison the fish that collect therein with a deadly plant the Mexicans call palmilla, securing everything, fingerlings and all. They never tattoo, paint, or wear masks as far as I could ascertain. They are a strange, wild set of savages in a strange, picturesque country, a country that will repay visiting in the future should the means of transportation—railways or better stage facilities—ever be sufficiently improved.
A CLIFF DWELLING.
After leaving the wonderful Valley of the Churches it requires a night's rest before one is ready to give much admiration or attention to the magnificent scenery on every hand. It seems as if you had had a surfeit of the beautiful. I obtained a number of interesting sketches and photographs of these homes in the clouds. The photographs were taken under great drawbacks, as the days were stormy and cloudy, and even the lowest of the cliff dwellings were difficult of approach.
Just as we were descending a high mountain into the beautiful valley of the Tatawichic, we passed by an enormous rock on the steep trail of the mountain side that must have been fully three hundred feet high and not over thirty feet in diameter, which did not vary a foot from its base to its top, where it was rounded off like a half globe. It was green in color, looked exactly like a pitahaya cactus turned into stone, and seemed wonderfully unstable as seen from the trail that wound around its base on the steep descent. The name of the station at this point was Pilarcitas (Little Pillars), from the many curious and fantastic rock formations which assumed the shape of pillars, either singly or in groups of two, three, or more. The previous night had been very cold in the mountains, and the constant showers only increased the chill; so we found the little station houses the most welcome places of refuge as night came on.
The last station on this trail is about four or five miles from Carichic, and is in the center of a productive and well-watered valley. The little cultivation done there by the Indians shows a wonderful fertility of soil; in truth there are but few of the staple products that could not be grown in that portion of the country in the greatest abundance. At this last station of the Batopilas Company they start their private stages directly for Chihuahua. We remained over for a day, awaiting the departure of the regular diligence from Carichic.