A long and rough descent brought us to a pine-forest, whence at an elevation of six thousand feet we again looked down upon the valley of the Chixoy. Among the pines and oaks I photographed the view. The little white-housed town of Sacapulas on the hillside above the right bank of the light-green river which did not half fill its bed; the cultivated fields around; far in the distance the volcanic cone of Tajumulco,—the first we had seen, a token that we had left the limestone mountains of the Atlantic, and were looking on the fire-fountains of the Pacific coast,—all these and so much more in this grand view before us. We hardly noted the contour, the lines, the masses,—all that we could trust to the ivory plate that should carry it away; but the vivid colors in that clear atmosphere, the marvellous tints of forest, sky, and river, no photographic art could carry away, and we must enjoy it now by ourselves. The town was five miles away, and three thousand feet below us; and the descent was very difficult, owing to the sharp bits of quartz in the path. In the valley we came upon the huge cylindrical cacti (_Cereus_) used in fencing. Jocote-trees were abundant, but the small yellow fruit decidedly inferior. Sugar-cane grew to some extent in gardens, but fruits and vegetables were scarce. On the trees and fences hung a light-blue convolvulus,—the most attractive color I ever saw; and this with a smaller white one brought the number of the “morning-glories” we had found so far to ten species. Women were bathing in a spring near the road; the men seem never to bathe in public. Over the river was a bridge of six piers with simple hewn logs laid between them, no plank or rail of any kind, although the bridge was high and the current, even in ordinary stages of the water, very strong. As our bestias did not hesitate, we of course crossed with them. A short distance up stream were two brick and stone arches of a more ancient bridge extending from the town side. Several piers of the bridge we were crossing had fallen; but the masonry was good, and they generally held well together, forming bowlder-like masses, on which new piers had been built: in one case this process had been repeated. No doubt the bridge will soon break down again; and two wire cables are stretched from cliff to cliff to provide transit in case of accident. We went up a steep paved street to the Plaza, where Señor Placido Estada, the comandante, assigned us quarters in the cabildo, and exerted himself to find us a boarding-place. Whether the climate was favorable, I know not; but we were always very hungry when we were where food could be got: where it was wanting we did not care for it. Here we did full justice to the señora’s cinnamon-flavored chocolate whipped to a froth. [Illustration: SACAPULAS AND THE CHIXOY VALLEY.]