And there commanded the four hundred a humane man, with something of the guilelessness of the child.
We crossed the Yaqui in canoes and upon rafts.

White, brown and black, the horses swam the stream.

Again nigh impenetrable forest, again villages, again clear singing and running waters.

But ever the mountains came closer.

At last we entered hilly country and the streams pushed with rapidity, flowing to the Yaqui, flowing to the sea.