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122 Xibalba it would be to hear the Puhuyak ask that irritating question with his casual unsympathetic manner and harsh voice.

What strikes one most in riding or walking through a tropical forest of Central America is the mixed nature of the vegetation. Between the low fringe of sea-coast, where the mangroves have full sway, and the lofty hilltops, where the pines and oaks abound, one can nowhere give a name to the forest from the predominence of any particular tree. There are no mahogany forests and no cedar forests, although both species have many representatives. Perhaps the lightness or feathery nature of the seeds helps in their distribution; certainly I never saw a native forest tree with a number of seedlings growing up round it, as one may see in the case of a sycamore or horse-chestnut at home. This characteristic applies even to the small grove round the ruins at Copan; and although I had learnt to identify a few of the most noticeable trees, I could only find a few examples of each amongst the many trees around us, and to my untrained eye all the remainder appeared to differ from one another. The monarchs of the grove were two giant Ceibas, to whose beauty and grandeur I can do no justice with words. A tent might be pitched between the buttresses from which the mighty shaft of such a giant springs, and a regiment might camp beneath its branches. As the month of April is the middle of the dry season many of the trees were changing their leaves, and the process was most interesting to watch, and often very rapid in accomplishment. Some of the trees which were fully clothed, and showed no sign of change when we arrived, dropped all their leaves, stood for a few days bare, and then completely reclothed themselves during the few weeks we remained at the ruins. Others went through the process in distinct sections, and it gave a very odd appearance to a tree when some of its branches were covered with old foliage, some branches quite bare, and others bright with the fresh green or pink of newly unfolded leaves.

In one respect we were fortunate during our stay—there were no mosquitos; but garrapatas (ticks), coloradillos (minute harvest-bugs), fleas, and ants tried their best to spoil our tempers. The fleas in the house could be subdued by a plentiful supply of fresh pine-needles spread over the floor; garrapatas and coloradillos nothing can subdue. Personally, as a housekeeper, if I must award the palm for capacity to irritate, it shall go to the ants: they invaded every nook and corner, disputed the possession of every eatable thing, and bit or stung me violently whenever they got the chance. One night they besieged me in the tent, and attacked me so savagely that I was forced to cry for help. A "marching army," as it is called, was making its way through the wood, and as our home lay in its path the soldiers had, in true military fashion, "occupied" it. My husband was at