Departure.--Journey to Yalahao.--Stony Road.--Arrival at the Port.--The Sea.--Appearance of the Village.--Bridge.--Springs.--Pirates.--Scarcity of Ramon.--The Castillo.--Its Garrison.--Don Vicente Albino.--An Incident.--Arrangements for a Voyage down the Coast.--Embarcation.--The Canoa El Sol.--Objects of the Voyage.--Point Moscheto.--Point Frances.--An Indian Fisherman.--Cape Catoche.--The first Landing-place of the Spaniards.--Island of Contoy.--Sea-birds.--Island of Mugeres.--Lafitte.--Harpooning a Turtle.--Different Kinds of Turtle.--Island of Kancune.--Point of Nesuc.--Sharks.--Moschetoes.--Bay of San Miguel.--Island of Cozumel.--Rancho established by the Pirate Molas.--Don Vicente Albino.--Mr. George Fisher.--Piratical Aspect of the Island.--A Well.--Plantation of Cotton.--Stroll along the Shore. On Monday, the fourth of April we took leave of the warm-hearted cura, and set out for our new point of destination, the port of Yalahao. I am obliged to hurry over our journey to the coast. The road was lonely and rugged, mostly a complete crust of stone, broken and sharp pointed, which severely tried and almost wore out our horses. It was desperately hot; we had no view except the narrow path before us, and we stumbled along, wondering that such a stony surface could support such a teeming vegetation. In the afternoon of the third day we were approaching the port. When within about a league of it, we came out upon a low, swampy plain, with a grove of cocoanut trees at a long distance before us, the only objects rising above the level surface, indicating, and, at the same time, hiding, the port of Yalahao. The road lay over a causeway, then wet and slippery, with numerous holes, and sometimes completely overflowed. On each side was a sort of creek, and in the plain were large pools of water. With a satisfaction perhaps greater than we had experienced in our whole journey, we reached the port, and, after a long absence, came down once more upon the shore of the sea. The village was a long, straggling street of huts, elevated a few feet above the washing of the waves. In passing along it, for the first time in the country we came to a bridge crossing a brook, with a fine stream of running water in sight on the left. Our horses seemed as much astonished as ourselves, and we had great difficulty in getting them over the bridge. On the shore was another spring bubbling within reach of the waves. We rode on to the house of Don Juan Bautista, to whom we had a letter from the cura of Chemax, but he had gone to his rancho. His house and one other were the only two in the place built of stone, and the materials had been obtained from the ruins of Zuza, standing on his rancho, two leagues distant on the coast.