"Our guide told us that there is a tradition among the Indians that Old Popo and the White Woman were once living beings. They were a giant and giantess, and for some disobedience of the gods they were changed into mountains. The giantess was struck dead, and that is why she lies stretched out on her bier and covered with a white robe; Old Popo was the giant, and he was merely rooted to the spot where he stood. He shows his grief by occasionally shedding tears of lava, which rolls down in great floods, and in the sobbing and sighing that form a part of his weeping he breathes huge volumes of smoke. Sometimes his grief is so great that he shakes in agony, and then the whole earth is moved. Evidently he doesn't feel as badly now as he used to, as he has behaved very well for three centuries and more.
"It was lucky we brought a supply of bedding and provisions, for there was absolutely nothing at Tlamacas except some huts of rough boards and stone. The rancho stands in a valley, and we descended quite a little distance before reaching it; this descent seemed to us a waste of labor, as we would be obliged to make up for it by another ascent.
"Several times during the day we met donkeys and mules laden with ice and sulphur, the two commodities which are produced by the great mountain. Ice is cut from the places where it accumulates. The city of Mexico has long been supplied from here, just as the cities at the base of Mount Etna are supplied from that famous volcano. It is packed upon mules or donkeys and carried to the railway or to the canal at Chalco, whence it is brought to its destination. The sulphur is taken from the crater, as we shall presently see, brought as far as the snow-line on the backs of men, or slid down the steep side of the mountain; and from there it goes to the railway on the backs of beasts of burden.
"Ice-machines in the city have somewhat interfered with the business of the Indians who bring ice from the mountain, and may possibly break it up altogether. The ice is like that from glaciers all the world over, and resembles snow more than it does the product of the New England lakes and rivers in the winter season. It is sold in the city as nieve (snow), and the boys who peddle ice-cream in the capital call out, 'Nieve! tome nieve!' as they go about with their wares.
"We managed to sleep fairly well in the huts at Tlamacas, and were tired enough to go to rest very early. From our supply of canned provisions we made up an excellent supper, and there was a material addition to it in the shape of some fresh chickens, which one of our muleteers had brought along just as a speculation. He argued to himself that we would be glad to buy chickens in addition to the stock of food we had on hand, and so we were. We gladly paid him double what the chickens would have cost at Amecameca. Mr. Arms suggested that possibly the chickens had cost the man nothing, as they were probably taken from a chicken-house during the night while the legitimate owner was slumbering.
IN THE PINE REGION.
"The thermometer went down to forty-two degrees during the night, and when we started in the morning it was forty-seven degrees. The volcanero was to call us at five o'clock; and for fear he would not be around at that hour, Colonel Watson set an alarm clock, which he had stowed away in his hand-bag. The clock fired itself off at five and waked everybody, the volcanero included.