AFTER a tour of the land of the Aztecs I embarked at Salina Cruz, that new Pacific port of Mexico whose importance in the commercial world is just beginning to be felt, and started on a journey to the land of the Toltecs. Passage was taken on the good ship _Menes_ of the Kosmos Line, and never were passengers in better hands. There were only five first-class passengers and they made rather a cosmopolitan gathering in the cabin each evening. They were an American, a Scotchman, an Englishman, a Spaniard and a Columbian and these, together with three members of the crew, the captain, doctor and first officer, all Germans, made up the personnel of those who gathered around the table at each meal. I did not mention that there were ten Mexican bulls that had taken passage on the first cabin deck destined for a bull-fight in Guatemala City. As these animals were safely boxed up, however, they were not very sociable on the trip and scarcely made their presence known by even a bellow. These coasting vessels are unique in the carrying trade. They have an extraordinary amount of deck space and carry everything from mail to fresh lettuce, and perform the functions of a freight steamer and market gardener. Your beefsteak or mutton of to-morrow stands on the hoof in the hatchway below, gazing up at you with inquiring eyes, and, on the upper deck, barnyard fowls blink reproachfully at you through the slats of their double-decked coops. The roustabout crew are Chilean rotos, who look as though they might be pleased to stick a knife between one’s ribs. There are few tourists in the American sense of the word, and the passengers are mostly German, English or Yankee drummers, or engineers bound for railroads or mines in Central or South America, with occasionally a native army officer or merchant travelling from one port to another.