After passing the Mexican border at El Paso the journey lies for the first hundred miles or so through a dreary sandy waste till one reaches Torreon, which, owing to its irrigation canals, is the centre of a very fine farming district. The town possesses large smelters, a white-lead works, and a glycerine and dynamite factory. And this is the town where in Madero’s late revolution 303 poor unhappy Chinamen were slaughtered in cold blood! The next place of importance is Zacatecas, one of the largest mining centres in the Mexican republic, with mines, now being worked, that were worked by the Spaniards some three hundred years ago. Its cathedral, perched up on the top of the mountain, was all lighted up for some great church _fiesta_; a very pretty sight, visible for miles after we had passed the town. From Irapuata a branch line runs to Guadalajara. The country here changes entirely as one enters the State of Jalisco, known as the granary of Mexico. Guadalajara itself is a fine old Mexican city, in the centre of an immense fertile plain, at an elevation of 5200 feet. It is a town that has always been against the Liberals, being the great centre of the Clerical Party, and consequently the Federal Government under Diaz never did much to help it. Juarez was nearly assassinated here, and General Diaz was hissed by the people when he went up there some twelve years ago. It has a beautiful cathedral, and churches are to be found in almost every block of the centre of the town. It is a very sleepy place, distinguished for this even in a land where the people are accustomed to take life easily; things have, however, changed much in the last eight years.