We slept long, and did not get our early meal until eight. Santiago added to his disrepute by failing to find any _sacate_ (green fodder) for the animals, while Frank found a supply at once. We always had to buy or pay separately for our sacate and corn; seldom was either to be found in a posada. While our bestias were feeding we went to the church, which had a curious campanile decorated (?) with sculptured angels at the angles. Inside, there was a wedding,—the couple kneeling within the chancel-rail under one red shawl. The officiating priest seemed to be an Irishman. As we rode out of town we passed a public fountain, to which excellent water is brought from a distance of several miles by a very ancient aqueduct. The fountain was of the usual form,—a column more or less ornamented rising in the midst of a circular or polygonal basin, which catches the water falling from one or more spouts near the top of the column. From this common basin horses drink and women dip water, the spouts being quite out of reach. The Indios place their water-jars on the edge of the large basin and conduct the water by a bambu pole just long enough to reach from the spout to the jar. At eleven o’clock we reached Patzicia, but did not stop even to examine the ruined church. The evening before we had noticed a long cliff some ten feet high,—evidently caused by a comparatively recent subsidence; and here we saw other evidences of earthquakes in remote ages before the present town was built. On the trees by the road was a beautiful yellow bignonia, and in the yards we saw fine double pink and white dahlias growing as trees,—fifteen feet high, and with stems eight inches in diameter. Chimaltenango, the head of this Department, did not interest us, and we did not linger. The road was level, but winding and dusty. We were approaching the volcanoes Agua and Fuego, which kept changing their relative position in a very puzzling manner. Several small hamlets—San Lorenzo, San Luis, Pastores, and Jocotenango—served as milestones on our way. Near the last place we discovered a man on fire in the road; and it was no easy matter to extinguish the conflagration. Tobacco did the mischief, and aguardiente prevented the senses of the poor Indio from working fast enough to save much of his clothing; and as we rode away we saw his companions stripping the smoking rags from his singed body. About dusk we came to the Hotel del Commercio in Antigua, the capital of the Department of Sacatepequez. [Illustration: Antigua and the Volcan de Agua.]