[Illustration: A GROUP OF PEONS] The buildings of the Zuloaga _hacienda_, which I visited, lie about fifty miles west of Chihuahua, in one of the most beautiful locations that could be found anywhere. They are near the foot of a range of low mountains, and in front projects out a plain that gently slopes down to a lake a couple of miles distant. Beyond the lake is another range of wooded hills which seem to complete the picture. Within the walls are the home of the _hacendado_, the church, the stables and a store. The church is a beautiful structure, artistic in its details, and all of the materials used in its construction were secured upon the plantation; and all of the work, including some magnificently carved woodwork and some creditable paintings, was done on the premises and by those living there. The buildings are all one-storied in height, with walls thick enough to withstand any earthquake. The rooms are large and airy, with extremely high ceilings, through which you might drive a carriage, and the parlours are nearly as large as public halls. More than three thousand peons are employed on this _hacienda_, most of whom live in buildings arranged in big hollow squares just outside of the walls of the family’s quarters. [Illustration: TARAHUMARI INDIANS.] There are a number of small towns along this trans-continental line of railway, the principal of which is Miñaca, a quaint little old-fashioned place. The inhabitants would rather attend a chicken fight than work or go to mass. From Miñaca this road begins the real climb over the divide on its way to the Pacific coast. For scenic beauty it equals any railroad in Mexico, not excepting the ride over the Mexican railway from the City of Mexico to Vera Cruz, hitherto described. Deep cuts, high hills, and tunnels succeed each other, as the railroad climbs up on its way toward the line of perpetual snow. It passes through one of the best timber sections of Mexico, where tall pine trees, straight as an arrow, rise up for a hundred feet or more without a limb. Huge crags of fantastic outline, tall pines silhouetted against the low-hanging clouds and the mysterious depths of the barrancas combine to form scenes of awe-inspiring grandeur. At dangerous points crosses on the trail tell the story of tragedies—of riders who have probably stumbled into eternity without a moment’s warning.