We were obliged, as usual, to depend upon ourselves for quarters; and, after much research, and disturbing the quiet of many poor old women in their hammocks, we found a store-house, in which we became somewhat comfortably accommodated for the night. Shortly after sunrise, on the following morning, we continued our journey to Tabi, a distance of two leagues. At this place we spent an hour in visiting a sonato, one of the most celebrated in the country. It had been the scene of some _miracle_, the particulars of which we were unable to learn, and is therefore held in much reverence by the Indians. The circumference is about fifty feet, and it is about seventy to the surface of the water from the top of the ground. The water is said to be about a hundred feet deep, and has a subterraneous channel, the extent of which is unknown. A small chapel is erected upon its border. In the absence of all rivers in this country, these watering-places, or natural wells, seem to be one of the most striking gifts of God’s beneficence. Near this chapel is a tree of the mammee species, peculiar to the province, of extraordinary dimensions, growing, apparently, out of a solid rock. This town is principally inhabited by Indians. The few whites here, as is usual in many other places, principally maintain themselves by selling small articles, cotton cloth, and liquors to the Indians. Save a church, there were no public buildings in the place. No animation or purpose was to be seen among these listless Indians, who in that, as in other particulars, resembled all of their race whom I had yet seen. We continued our journey on to Sotuta, a distance of three leagues, where we arrived at eleven o’clock, over a good road, upon which the Indians were at that time engaged in working out their road-tax.