Mier is like every other Mexican town I have seen, it is composed of one square only, and all the rest suburbs, the houses built of adobe. To the southwest, hills, parched and arid, give an unpleasing foreground of the superb view of the mountains of Cerralvo, all the blue of Italy was again before me, with the exception of the blues of the Mediterranean Sea. Two more of our company returned to us here, one of whom, Ulysses Doubleday, was so weak and reduced that I left him in charge of his friends Bachman and Elmslie, and gave him what money he needed to carry him home. I certainly thought him a dying man, but it was otherwise ordained, and he reached his friends safely and well. Bachman and Elmslie were true to me throughout all. CHAPTER III MEXICO FROM THE RIO GRANDE TO THE MOUNTAINS _April 28th, 1849._ The company started today, and I expect to follow early tomorrow, and join the men who are now fifteen miles ahead of me. I am compelled to remain to attend to the property of the ten men who have died of cholera in this accursed place; it goes to New Orleans by boat in the morning. Why Col. Webb, who had been in this country before, selected this route instead of a more northerly one, I cannot understand, but it is now too late to change, and we must go forward with courage. _April 29th. Canales Run._ We are all on our way, having come to Ceralvo, [Cerralvo][14] beautiful for its old mission, and curious in its irrigating canals, bridges and old church, still it has the apathetic lassitude of everything Mexican. We rode on to Robber's Rancho, over undulating wastes of hard, unprofitable soil. The palmettos are here by the thousand, and their fantastic shapes gave the appearance of horsemen of gigantic size, riding through grass almost as tall. _May 1st._ Robber's Rancho, once a fine hacienda, was burned by the Americans, in the last war, for the rascality of its owners; it is on a beautiful plain, but brush has grown up in the now neglected fields, and all is in ruins. Here we came near losing Lieut. Browning from cholera, but he was saved by Dr. Trask's indefatigable exertions. _May 12th. Near Monterey._ We have been here four days having horses and mules shod, and I will take my pencil notes and write up my journal to date. We were at Robber's Rancho a week, waiting for Bachman, Elmslie and Carrol, who had been left with Doubleday. As soon as they rejoined us we moved on to Papogias [Popagallos] then to Ramos where we met some French traders with a long train of mules and their "cargoes." Ramos was followed by Marin and Aquafrio; all present a dilapidated appearance, very different from what was seen when the country was under the fine system of irrigation, and the remains of past opulence everywhere sadden the traveller.