little by little, that this necessary purpose was thereafter accomplished, and the arriero perhaps kept from leaving us in the lurch.
It was apropos of this incident that my first glimpse into the peculiar nature and inclinations of the colonel was obtained. It was now evident that it would have been better not to have paid the man in advance. But the colonel refused either to regret that he had done so or to regard it as a lesson for the future.
"I am a philosopher," he said. "The philosopher makes no account of such things."
These views he professed also on other occasions, and seemed, with a bravado of stoicism, almost to go in search of inconveniences.
"But is it not rather philosophy," I argued, "to avoid such inconveniences as one can by a little exercise of forethought, and then endure the inevitable with equanimity?"
"No; that is the civilian's, not the soldier's, point of view," he persisted, with obstinacy.
IV.
This route, probably no better, and certainly no worse, was travelled, as now, nearly a hundred years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. It was the sole highway between Acapulco, the only really excellent port on the Pacific Coast, and the capital. It has seen the transit of convoys of treasure, slaves, silks, and spices from the Indies, bound in part for Old Spain. A regular galleon used to sail from Acapulco for supplies of Oriental goods. It has seen the march of royalist troops, under the sixty-four viceroys, and of many a wild insurgent troop. Morelos operated here, with his bandit hand- `
