THE RIO SAN JUAN-SAN CARLOS-THE LAKE. 29 them with the soap-bush, and then beat them till in a foam; then a rinse in the lake; soap them again, and another beating upon the stone, in so vigorous manner, as only to be fully appreciated by the poor fellow gazing on, and questioning himself as to where he shall get buttons to replace those now flying off; and who is to do the sewing. A clean shirt is a luxury; but even a clean one without buttons, is sadly vexatious. Having ascended the Rio San Juan to Lake Nicaragua, let us pause at this spot, and survey, on either hand, the outspread panorama. To the right, on an eminence, stands the house of the Commandante of San Carlos, protected by a single gun, loaded to the muzzle probably for ten years past, and over whose touch-hole lies a piece of broken crockery. Here also is the Custom House, a regular frame barn, supported on posts some sixteen feet high, and under which goods are piled in indiscriminate confusion. The place was dedicated to the State, but dogs, pigs, and cows here meet on equal terms, and litter and repose in perfect security. The Old Fort lies back on a higher point, decayed, and covered with gross herbage. Its position commands the Lake and the mouth of the San Juan. Here also are piled up a great quantity of balls; and fine cannon, of exquisite mould, lie half hidden in the grass. The town consists of a few cane huts. The Lake is before us a wondrous, beautiful sheet studded with islands, covered with fruits and valuable woods, while, from its bosom rise Ometepec and Madeira, giant sentries o'er the wide and waving waste. To the left, flows the Rio Frio, whose sources are in the mountains of Costa Rica, from whence is derived the coolest and most refreshing water in the State; and although it has a depth of two fathoms, or more, for fifty miles above its mouth, and, consequently, is navigable for small stern-wheel steamers, yet its history is sealed, naught being, as yet, known concerning it, save from the unfriendly Guatosos Indians, who inhabit its banks, and who deny all entrance there. From some of these, glowing accounts of gold, silver, and opals have been received. The islands of La Boqueta swarm near Granada, resembling the floating gardens of ancient Mexico. Solentiname, Zapatero, Cubi, the Corales, and numberless smaller ones, all dot the lake, a full account of which we are compelled to forego in our general history, though all are worthy of attention and of a visit. Across the lake is Virgin Bay, the landing point for passengers who have left the United States for California. It is on rising ground. The site will never answer for a town of any importance, although a pier has been constructed at great expense, for the landing of passengers. Its harbor is any thing but safe, the bottom being hard and sandy. Prior to the introduction of steamers on the Lake, vessels anchored at THE COUNTRY-SAN MIGUELITOSAN JORGE. 31 certain seasons, one mile and a half from the shore, to prevent dragging their anchors when the wind was high. The country around it is rich and fertile, though grown up with rank vegetation and underbrush; and until the axe and plow are generally introduced here, and the hardy AngloSaxon dares its privations, malarias will abound, and the stories of Nicaragua's natural wealth and incomparable beauties will be received with suspicion, or listened to as were the traditionary legends of the ancient Incas of Peru. San Miguelito is on the little bay of the same name, twenty miles above San Carlos. The country around is generally uninviting, though good grazing ground. Beyond, lie the volcanic mountains of Chontales. The shores are low and undulating. Those desirous of visiting what is generally termed Nicaragua, push across to the west side of the Lake where the outlined hills present a more favorable prospect. Beyond the black, volcanic masses, the mind imagines green fields, luxurious savannahs, and other scenes refreshing and pleasant to dwell upon. We shall speak of Chontales elsewhere in our volume. A few miles north of Virgin Bay, on the opposite shore from San Carlos, stands, on rising ground, the little village of San Jorge, the port of Rivas. It is a pretty spot; almost every house surrounded with the coyal palm, the banana, plantain, and the cocoa. In its little plaza stands its parochial church, built in the uniform Moresque style, and dedicated to San Jorge. It is quite large, and contains twelve or thirteen altars, exclusive of the main one, covering the back part entire. It has few relics, nor is it richly ornamented, but answers that for which it was intended-a house of God. The padre I met acted as my cicerone; and after showing me the church and village, invited me to his house, where he regaled me with a good cigar, some good wine, and his blessing. I sprang into the stirrup, and after promising to deliver certain letters for him, as well as to call again, returned to the main road, and pushed forward to Rivas. The road verges greatly-its length, probably about three miles, though one may think it five or six. Scattered along the route are ranchos hidden in orange and lemon groves. while, lining the path, the mango, to me the handsomest tree in the world, woos the weary traveler to a siesta. He is tempted to rest; the cocoa-nut hangs bewitchingly from its eyrie above, while the rattle of its milk within, appeals strongly to his tastes. He seizes a full one, leaps from his mule, and for a time forgets absence from those beloved in a distant clime. CHAPTER III. THE BIVAS-THE PLAZA-MARKET-SENORITAS-EARLY HISTORY-GIL GONZALES OUR way is over a rolling country, well covered with fruits, where are numerous sites for beautiful homes. Rivas, the capital of the district, is entered by a broad road leading to the plaza, found in every Spanish settlement. Upon it is located the Cathedral, Government Houses, and shops, while the ground itself is occupied daily by the country people, who here sell their marketing-corn, beans, onions, oranges, lemons, pine-apples, jocotes, coffee, tobacco, sugar, cheesein fine, everything from the haciendas to tempt the appetite and appease it. The señorita, with her dark olive skin well |