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Chapter 23 For most of the two months that followed I found myself in Chiapas, and in February, in fact, I knocked around the border so much that I stayed now in one state, now in another, without having to make a long journey. On February 21 I proceeded in a southwesterly direction across the border, which I reached, via an extremely mountainous road, after a few hours’ journey. As soon as the traveler crosses into Chiapas he finds himself at the foothills, on which stands a huge and handsome structure, one surrounded by small cane huts of the Indians who furnish the labor of this sitio. It is one of the many properties of the wealthy Salvador Calcaño, and bears the name Azufre from the sulphur springs located in the vicinity. To the left of the building rises a rocky, picturesque mountain, while to the right spreads an extremely fertile plain, which the waters of the Blanquillo intersect and refresh. The traveler finds himself between the hot and unhealthy lowlands of Tabasco and the mountainous and invigorating estates of Chiapas in a single point that offers all the advantages and disadvantages of the tropics. I tarried there three days, partly to augment my collection, partly to observe at closer hand the sulphur springs.These issue from the foot of the mountains, surrounded by a forest of melastoma and limoncillos,1 and in terms of water volume surpass by far the springs of Esperanza. In quality, however, they are identical. Strangely enough, and just as in Esperanza, two entirely separate sulphur springs,though located in almost the selfsame place, converge here and form a rather large, milk-white stream. The first issues from a muddy point whose water, almost clear at its point of origin, quickly assumes a yellow-white color.The water bears a sulphurous taste,repugnant,and without trace of salt; the odor betrays a great deal of unrestrained sour gas. The second major spring bubbles violently from a volcanic stone basin. It consists mainly of water carbonated with sulphur gas; this water tastes saline and is almost caustic to the tongue, and the bubbles, ascending in huge masses, give off a significant quantity of carbonated gas.The smell is a bit sulphurous, and the sediment on the rocks creates tiny polygons Chapter 23 / 233 of salt crystals. The temperature reaches an average of more than 77 degrees. Thus, like the mineral springs I have previously described, these too lie in tranquil seclusion and are little used—in Europe, without doubt, they would provide for the health of thousands of people! From the hacienda Azufre I set out for the largest cacao plantation, that of Santa Rosalie, which in any event belongs to Don Salvador Calcaño, and which with the ranchos counts 500,000 trees and yields an annual profit of 32,000–64,000 florins. Santa Rosalie lies two leagues northwest of Azufre in the state of Chiapas, on the banks of the Blanquillo, which is navigable from the department of Pichucalco and which together with the Chiapas River empties into the Gulf of Mexico. My earlier sketch of the course of the main river will suffice to give some idea of the location of the place here described . In Santa Rosalie the owner met me in ever so friendly a manner. He had resided there for a long time,and had already made my acquaintance inTeapa; by chance he had mentioned more cases of fevers and illnesses and a severely injured mayordomo (overseer of workers) in need of medical attention. He lay sick, and the proprietor urged me to help and assist him as much as was in my power. Busy with my collection, I had to remain there a few days more in order to be able to address both objectives with favorable results. It so happened for me that things here turned out well, so that once again I did not labor without compensation. For a brief time immediately afterward I roamed through the plantation on the Blanquillo, bordered by the haciendas La Lluvia and Rosario. Medical matters kept me extremely busy, and I finally returned to Teapa through a splendid forest country on the so-called road of Leche María without any particular incident. It was now March 5, 1848. A few days earlier I had already resolved to make a journey to the department of Pichucalco in the state of Chiapas, but until this morning rainy...

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