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Updated: April 30, 2025
It was scarcely more than noonday when we reached Nochixtlan, where the jefe of the district lives. Telling him that we desired to visit Yodocono and Tilantongo, he wrote orders for us, and charged some indians of Tidaa to show us the road, so far as they were going. The country through which we passed was a continuation of that preceding Nochixtlan.
Unfortunately, he gained the idea that the people whom we wanted for measurement and photography were old folk, and the most astonishing collection of aged men and women was summoned from every part of the village and surrounding neighborhood, and all had to be measured, although the measurements were afterwards discarded. Leaving Yodocono at ten the following morning, we rode to Tilantongo.
When we came to the general view of Yodocono, and its little lake, tears stood in the old man's eyes as he said, "Sir, that was my mother's birthplace, and in her honor I have established, at my own expense, two schools, one for boys, and one for girls." Looking at the round huts of Chicahuastla, he shivered, and remarked: "Ah, sir, but it is cold in Chicahuastla."
The road was nearly level, with but slight ups and downs, until a little before we reached our destination, when we had an abrupt up-turn to Yodocono, a pretty town on the border of a little lake, which has but recently appeared, and which covers an area which a few years ago was occupied by cultivated fields.
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