Again, we climbed much of the way over limestone roads.

Santo Domingo, past which we journeyed, is a mean little town, with houses much like those of Tilantongo, but of a gray color instead of reddish-brown.

From here we plunged downward, and when we ascended again, followed along the side of a rock-walled canon with pretty cascades and magnificent masses of fallen rock.

The last part of our journey was made by moonlight, along a brook-side over a road which seemed quite endless.

With some trouble, we found the dilapidated old church and the municipal house; we took possession of the school, and after a miserable supper, thoroughly tired, lay down to rest upon the benches.
The town--Magdalena de los Comales--is so named from the _comales_, or earthenware griddles, made there.