Their success has already invited the more avaricious, but less coldly calculating Gentile; and while it is stating it a little strong to say there is a "boom," or even indications of one, within the thirty to sixty miles between villages, my conscience is not disturbed in saying that I can at least agree with the great American poet that, We hear the first low wash of waves Where soon shall roll a human sea. Already a railway was talked of, and the usual undue excitement was manifested. Every stranger was supposed to have something to do with it. Even my own little expedition was thought to be a sort of preliminary reconnoissance. I have never constructed a railway in my life, but I have been along the advancing lines of a number of new ones, and have seen them grow from two iron rails in a wilderness to a great country. I do not recall any that had much brighter prospects ahead than the proposed one along the eastern slopes of the Sierra Madres. That it must be built some day the resources of the country clearly demand, and it is to be hoped that it will be at as early a date as possible. At La Ascension we were greatly indebted to Mr. Francis, a young English gentleman, who literally placed his house at our disposal, giving up his own room for our comfort. As there were no inns in La Ascension except those of the lowest order, this generous hospitality of the only Englishman in the town was warmly appreciated by us. One of our wagons having met with a slight accident, we remained over Sunday to await repairs. As soon as this was known to the inhabitants invitations began to pour in to attend cockfights, and one of especial magnitude was organized in our honor. The finest cocks in the place were to take part, and the _presidente_ or mayor of the town would preside. Then, to add distinction to the already exciting programme, a _baile_ or ball was hastily gotten up for the evening. Hospitality could go no farther in this out-of-the-way town, for the people were really not rich enough to support a bullfight. Early in the morning, before the population had recovered from the dissipations of the previous night, we bade our hospitable host "good-by," and, wrapped in our heaviest coats against the chill morning air, we started southward toward Corralitos, about thirty-five or forty miles away. After crossing wide _mesas_ and threading our way around the bases of many picturesque groups of mountains, we came to the Casas Grandes River and valley, and along this stream, literally alive with ducks, we traveled for some hours. It was a great temptation to get out the guns and shoot at the ducks that were calmly sailing by us on the broad and rapid stream; but as we had neither dog nor boat it would have been impossible to secure them had we done so. The consoling thought was ours that the hacienda was not far distant, and there we would likely find everything necessary to assist us in this or any other sport.