dred soldiers, huddled together in evident alarm. They had taken us for Apaches, and fled in dismay to the presidio and protection of the military; but when they discovered that we were Americans, nothing could exceed their wonder at our hardihood and folly, as they termed it, in penetrating the country with so small a party. This fact will give the reader some idea of the abject terror with which the poor Mexicans on the frontiers of Sonora, Chihuahua and Durango regard the Apache Indians.
To persons not aware of the causes, this timidity would appear as rank cowardice; but, however true such a charge would be of the masses, yet it must be acknowledged that there are notable exceptions. The Mexicans on the northern frontier are the very lowest and poorest of their countrymen. Living in hovels and sustaining themselves in some manner never yet determined or ascertained by any other people, almost wholly without arms or ammunition, and brought up from their earliest infancy to entertain the most abject dread and horror of the Apaches, they are forever after unable to divest them selves of the belief that an Apache warrior is not a man, but some terrible ogre against whom it is useless to contend, and who is only to be avoided by flight or appeased by unconditional submission.
At Fronteras I met with Gen. Carasco, Military Governor of Sonora, and an old enemy whom it had been my lot to confront during the Mexican war. The General received us with marked hospitality and kindness; offered us refreshments of which we stood greatly in need, and dispatched runners to show Mr. Bartlett the way into the town. During the evening's session, which lasted into the "wee sma' hours ayont the twal," the conversation turned upon the battle of Cerro Gordo,
