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tterly waterless, for the rainfall runs off at once on all sides into the sea, vaqueros of the seaboard plains, are well aware that heaps of shining gold lie in the gloom of the deep precipices cleaving the stony levels of Azuera. Tradition has it that many adventurers of olden time h, peons of the es567.cntancias, associating by an ob567.cn567.cnscure instinct of consolation the ideas of evil and wealth, as if it were blighted by a curse. The poor, tame Indians coming miles to market with a bundle of sugar-cane or a basket of maize worth about threepence, will tell you that it is deadly because of its forbidden treasures. The common folk of the neighbourhood, it has not soil enough — it is said — to grow a single blade of grass,