Our way out was a return for two miles, and then branched into another path, where the marks of the railway surveyors were plainly visible, and it seems that the Ferro-carril del Norte will come close to the Ruinas of Quirigua. As we left the lowlands we came upon ledges of sandstone perhaps a mile from the Ruinas, of the same kind used for the monoliths; but we could not find, perhaps owing to the dense vegetation, any signs of quarry work. In the path we saw fragments of pottery apparently ancient; and there are no modern habitations near at hand. As the path wound up the hill we crossed a sandstone ridge and had fine views over the valley of the Motagua. It was pleasant to get among the pines again, and on solid dry ground: I think I dread mud more than any other impediment in the road. When we struck the “camino real” late in the afternoon, Santiago went to the little village of Quirigua to get the traps he had left there, while Frank and I went on to the hacienda of Señor Rascon, late Jefe of Izabal, whom we had met in the office of Secretario Sanchez in the City of Guatemala. This hacienda was a mud-house with poor accommodations and little food; but as it cost us only two reals, we had no reason to grumble. The old señora in charge had only one egg; but overcome by Frank’s plaintive appeal, she scrambled under the bed where the hens were roosting, and managed to coax another from one of them. We were here entertained by the process of branding cattle,—not an attractive exhibition of brute force and brute suffering. [Illustration: STONES AT QUIRIGUA.]