Shortly after my arrival a number of Indians were started out to look up the animals; for we wished to get away the next morning if possible. When night came a part of the needed complement had not been found; for Mexican mules are always turned loose to hunt their living, and they often wander off many miles, and it sometimes takes days to find them. All night long the Indians were again out scouring the hills, but in the morning there were still not mules enough; so nothing could be done but patiently await their arrival. The next morning Francisco, a most excellent packer, by taking one horse to carry a few light bundles, had animals enough to make a start. Horses are of no service whatever in these mountains. On the steep, rough, dangerous trails the small Mexican mule is the only animal that can possibly cling, crawl, and climb up and down the dizzy heights. The motley and scraggy assortment of beasts led up for our inspection that morning gave us the uncomfortable feeling that we would never reach any place if we trusted to them. A little before ten o'clock my train of fourteen mules was started; and we were told we must ride fast, as the trail just out of the town was good, and it was necessary to make the noon camp at a certain spot. The trail we took was one seldom used, except by the Indians, and a few Mexicans who held mining property in that portion of the mountains. It was, therefore, one of the roughest and steepest in that region. Instead of seeking any sort of grade, it struck out wherever fancy had dictated to the original Indian travelers, generally over the steepest peaks or along the edge of some high and dizzy precipice, even when this course was wholly unnecessary. Although that made it somewhat laborious for us, as well as our animals, it gave us unusually fine views and picturesque effects, and despite the roughness of the trail we rode fifteen miles that morning and made our noon camp on time. When but a very short distance out of Carichic, while crossing a high ridge, I observed, in a little valley below, a curious looking creature skulking along half hidden from view, toward the entrance to a cave in a huge bowlder. I called the attention of my Mexican companion to him, and he said he was only one of the wilder Tarahumari Indians, who lived in this manner, and that I would see enough of them before I finished my journey. This was my first introduction to a strange people hidden away in those grand old mountains, and of which the world has known comparatively nothing. CHAPTER V. CENTRAL CHIHUAHUA--IN THE LAND OF THE LIVING CAVE AND CLIFF DWELLERS--THE TARAHUMARI INDIANS, CIVILIZED AND SAVAGE.