We daily pass cacti of three species, as well as miles of aloes, yet not enough nourishment to feed a horse in the whole of them, and through this country we start tomorrow for Chihuahua. We have one hundred and fifty-seven mules and horses and fifty-seven men, and are in good spirits. We hear Chihuahua is our best route, but we may have different information at Parral and go through Sonora. _May 29th._ Parras is like all Mexican towns I have seen, a few French and Americans, some with a Mexican wife, others with a housekeeper; but all indolent, keeping little stores and warehouses and making immense profits. It is celebrated for wines and brandy, made principally by foreigners. _May 30th._ At three o'clock this morning I was taken with sharp pains, nausea and other symptoms of cholera, and for the first time was obliged to ride in the ambulance, but towards evening was able to be up again, though very much debilitated. _June 2d._ We left Parras at five this morning, and at dusk reached El Paso [El Pozo], and camped on a gravelly hill. For miles a barren desert lined both sides of our road, until we came to a swamp tract, with extraordinary luxuriance of rank weeds, no grass, and passing this entered a dismal thicket of chaparral. _June 3d, Sunday._ We left El Paso at eight this morning, and rode until ten, when we reached a deserted rancho, and with some trouble encamped near a river bed with waterholes along it. A beautiful lagoon with water holes a hundred yards long enabled us all to take refreshing baths, and I watched with pleasure the languid flight of the great blue heron, changing his position as he was approached. Two Mexicans, hunting cattle, came to us here, and Lieut. Browning bought a wild mule, for which he gave a few dollars and a broken down mule. _June 2d._ [?] Again we have been through swamp-like country, crossed the dry bed of a river, with white sand glaring painfully in our faces, and found acres of wild sunflowers, and patches of what looked like horehound, then we came to a cottonwood bottom, gradually changing to a golden willow, which grew so luxuriantly on both sides of the road that I was reminded of the rich bottom lands of Ohio. At noon we came to Alamito, a large rancho, or small village of scoundrels. In bargaining for water, which is only to be had from wells, we found the men who had it for sale were making their own terms with our rascally guide, and Simson stepped up and began talking to them. They pretended they could not understand, but on my tapping my revolver they instantly became most intelligent.