第57部分(第5/7 頁)

periences；　and　after　a　lapse　of　over　twenty　years　the　memory　is　apt　to　retain　only　such　occurrences　and　scenes　as　struck　it　with　peculiar　force。

At　Vera　Cruz；　a　beautiful　but；　at　that　time；　unwholesome　town；　for　yellow　fever　was　still　prevalent　there　and　the　vultures　were　the　chief　safeguards　of　the　public　health　（they　sat　on　the　scavengers’　carts　as　these　went　their　rounds）；　we　caught　the　steamer　which　was　to　land　us　at　Frontera。　I　had　left　Mexico　City　with　the　worst　cold　I　ever　experienced；　contracted　originally　through　my　folly　in　opening　the　window　of　a　stifling　Pullman　car；　not　knowing　that　we　were　to　run　over　high　mountains　in　the　night。　It　was　so　bad　that　I　had　to　pull　my　eyelids　open　in　the　morning；　and　even　my　ears　were　stopped　up；　nor　could　I　shake　it　off　in　the　piercing　atmosphere　of　the　central　Mexican　tableland。　The　mild　and　beautiful　climate　of　the　coast；　however；　acted　on　me　like　magic；　and　before　I　had　been　twenty　hours　at　sea　I　was　almost　well　again。

On　the　day　after　leaving　Vera　Cruz　we　reached　Frontera；　at　the　mouth　of　a　great　stream　that　I　think　was　named　the　Tobasco　River。　Frontera　was　a　village　with　a　long　wide　street　of　which　the　population　appeared　to　me　to　show　many　traces　of　white　blood。　It　was　a　horrible　hole。　The　inn；　if　it　could　be　so　called；　in　which　we　slept；　if　I　remember　right；　stood　partly　on　piles　in　the　water　like　a　lake　dwelling；　in　the　garden　or　yard　great　hogs　rummaged；　while　vultures　sat　upon　the　railing　of　the　verandah。　Mosquitoes　buzzed　about　by　millions；　and　the　face　of　the　boy　who　waited　on　us　was　covered　with　open　sores；　resulting；　I　was　told；　from　fever。　Many　of　the　children；　also；　were　fever…stricken；　since　here　malaria　seemed　to　have　a　favourite　home。　Only　the　great　river；　with　its　palm…clad　banks；　was　beauti