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16 BY PATH AND TKAIL. way. We were now entering the land of the cactus, that mysterious plant so providentially protected against the hunger of bird or beast. Bristling from top to root with innumerable spines of the size and hardness of a cam bric or darning needle, the Mexican cactus is a living manifestation of a prescient, omnipotent and divine per sonality. From the diminutive singa, which grows in waterless regions, and whose bark when chewed gives re lief to the parched tongue, to the giant Suhauro towering to the height of forty or fifty feet, and whose pulp holds gallons of water, the cactus in its 685 species or varieties is a marvel of diversity and a fascinating study for the botanist. At 10 o'clock we halted for breakfast at the home of Signor Mathias Duran, an old and hospitable friend of Don Alonzo. Here I noticed with pleasure and edifica tion the survival of an old Spanish greeting which has outlived the vicissitudes of time and modern innovations. Mr. Duran was standing on his veranda shouting a welcome to his friend, who, dismounting, shook hands with his host and exclaimed: " Deo gratias" ( thanks be to God) and Duran, still holding his guest's hand, spoke back: " Para siempre benidito sea Dios y la siempre Virgin Maria; pase adelante, amigo mio." ( Forever blessed be God and the holy Virgin Mary; come in, my friend.) To me, coming from afar, this language sound ed as an echo from the Ages of Faith, and I marvelled at the colloquial piety and childlike simplicity of these cul tured and valiant gentlemen. Late that afternoon we entered the tribal lands of the Yaquis, and our armed escort now became somebodies and began to preen them selves on their courage and vigilance. And they were no ordinary men, these civilized Yaquis. On a long journey |
