Aztec Land

As one approaches the frontier, a feeling of regret steals over the traveler that he is hourly leaving behind him a country in which so much delight has been briefly experienced. That discomforts have been encountered is very true, – withering heat, dust, fatigue, and indifferent food, but these quickly fade into mere shadows. Not the pains, but the pleasures, of such a journey remain indelibly fixed in the memory. No cunningly painted canvas is so retentive as the active brain. While we roll over the broad cactus plains, closing the eyes in thought, a panorama moves before us, depicting vivid tableaux from our two months' experience in Aztec Land. We listen in imagination at the sunset hour to distant vesper bells, floating softly over the hills, and see the bowed heads and folded hands of the peons. Once more we gaze delighted upon lovely valleys, dark shadowy gorges, far-reaching plains of cacti and yucca palms, bordered by lofty, snow-tipped mountains; we see again the exuberant fruitfulness of the tropics, and the loveliness of the floral kingdom in this land of the sun; once more we stroll through the dimly lighted aisles of grand cathedrals, listening to the solemn chant of human voices, and the organ's deep reverberating tones; or view again the suggestive ruins of a vanished race. Groups of the native population in many colors, long lines of heavily-laden burros, dashing caballeros and lovely señoritas, pass in turn before the mind's eye. Now a grand comprehensive scene comes before us, a view from the battlements of Chapultepec, from the hill of Guadalupe, or the Pyramid of Cholula, and, above all, that presented from the towers of the superb cathedral of Mexico. This is not an enchanting dream, but the exquisite photography of memory, a store of glowing pictures for future mental enjoyment. It is such experiences and memories which render us never less alone than when alone.

Juarez is the northern end of the great railway line, the border town between Mexico and the United States, where we cross the Rio Grande to enter the city of El Paso, Texas, a town which promises in due course to become a grand commercial centre. At the present time the most remunerative business of the thrifty but ugly looking place, seems to be that of smuggling, which is carried on with a large degree of enterprise by the people of both nationalities. This arises from the excessive duties put on both the necessities and luxuries of life by the Mexican tariff. Juarez is an old settlement, dating from 1585, and is situated three thousand eight hundred feet above the sea. It is subject to great extremes of heat and cold, the thermometer showing 105° Fahr. at times in July, and 5° below zero in January. Snow falls here occasionally to the depth of two feet, while the Rio Grande freezes hard enough to bear heavily laden mule wagons. It is difficult for the place to cast off its former name, El Paso del Norte (Passage of the North), so called because of the ford on the river and the pass which nature here constructed between the mountains. The town extends along the west bank of the river some three miles, and back from it about one mile. The Rio Grande water is passable for drinking purposes, and good for general use, though it is somewhat impregnated with alkali.

Juarez possesses many fine old trees and much attractive verdure. It has numerous modern and handsome edifices, and the place is sure eventually to be a large distributing railway centre. The Southern Pacific Company's line, the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé, the Mexican Central, and the Texas Pacific railways all diverge from this point. There is an ancient stone church here which will be sure to interest the stranger, dark and gloomy within, but full of votive contributions and quaint belongings, recalling the chapel of Notre Dame de la Garde on the hill which overlooks Marseilles, where the Mediterranean seamen have deposited so many marine toys, images, and curiosities.

At Juarez the narrow, shallow Rio Grande, with its bare quicksands, was once more crossed, and the Texas city of El Paso, shadeless and verdureless, was reached. Its population is what would be expected in a frontier town of this region, while an air of crudeness permeates everything. As the vestibule train which had been our home for the past two months crossed the iron bridge, and as we came once more on to the soil of our own country, the American flag on the custom-house station was dipped three times in acknowledgment of our hearty cheers, and to welcome the party on its successful return from a long, but delightful journey through the states of the Mexican republic.