TEPEHUAS AND TOTONACS
(1900)
Leaving Puebla on the early morning train, and taking the Pachuca branch at Ometusco, we changed cars at Tepa onto the narrow-gauge Hidalgo road for Tulancingo, which took us by a winding course through a great maguéy country. After two hours of riding, in the latter part of which we were within sight of a pretty lakelet, we reached Tulancingo. Broad avenues, bordered with handsome trees, connected the station with the town, in the plaza of which we shortly found ourselves. This plaza consists of a large square, planted with trees, with an open space before it, and is surrounded by various shops and the great church. It is pretentious, but desolate. In front of the treed space, were temporary booths erected for the carnival, in which dulces, aguas frescas, and cascarones were offered for sale. Hawkers on the streets were selling cascarones, some of which were quite elaborate. The simplest were egg-shells, dyed and stained in brilliant colors, and filled with bits of cut paper; these were broken upon the heads of persons as they passed, setting loose the bits of paper which became entangled in the hair and scattered over the clothing. Some had, pasted over the open ends, little conical caps of colored tissue-paper. Others consisted of a lyre-shaped frame, with an eggshell in the center of the open part. Some had white birds, single or in pairs, hovering over the upper end. The carnival was on in full force, and we saw frequent bands of maskers. They went in companies of a dozen or so, dressed like clowns, with their clothing spotted and striped with red. Their faces were concealed by cloth. They walked rapidly, almost ran, through the streets. They spoke to no one, and did nothing except to keep up a loud and constant trilling of the most ridiculous kind. Packs of youngsters chased behind and crowded upon them; they also pelted them with stones, and the head of one of the maskers was bleeding quite profusely, but he still kept up his headlong run and trilling. We had counted upon the assistance of the jefe, but found him too dignified to receive us outside of office hours, and therefore we arranged the matter of our transportation to Huachinango. The price was high, the coach inconvenient, and the cochero unaccommodating. In vain we tried to have all of our plaster taken in the load with us; only one-half could go, the balance must follow the succeeding day. Finally, at about ten in the morning, we lumbered heavily away, and were soon out of the town, passing through a brown, hilly district, at first devoted to pulque plantations, but further along becoming fine pastureland. Neat fields, separated by bands of yellow, unplowed stubble, and true farm-houses of good size, were striking features. We passed through quantities of pine groves, and everywhere a cold wind blew strongly in our faces. At one place, we were obliged to dismount and walk, on account of the sharp descent, and found ourselves upon an ugly piece of limestone or sandstone rock, which soon, to our surprise, we found replaced by a solid mass of obsidian. The cochero, says that the place is known as itzlis—the obsidians, the knives. It was 2:30 when we reached Aguazotepec, where we called upon the presidente, and engaged a mozo, for a peso, to convey our instruments the balance of the journey, as we were completely tired out with carrying them upon our knees. We also arranged with that official to forward the balance of our stuff to Huachinango the following day. We also arranged to pay for horses from Aguazotepec to Huachinango. Having eaten an excellent dinner, when ready for resuming our journey, we discovered, with surprise, that the stage was still our conveyance to Venta Colorado, only a league from Huachinango. There we were to secure the animals for which we had paid, though we were warned that only three could be supplied. Manuel and Louis at once tossed coins to see which should ride first. Although we had paid the full cost of the coach, two other passengers were crowded in upon us, and the man, for whom we had paid the peso to carry our instruments, ran alongside the coach on foot, throwing stones at the mules, while we had again the pleasure of carrying the instruments and boxes on our knees. The country through which we rode was much as before. For some time we passed through a fine pine forest; then we made a deep descent into a valley, at the bottom of which flowed a large stream, which was bridged by a grand old structure of stone and cement. This descent, and the opposite ascent, we were obliged to make on foot, as the approaches were bad. We have been impressed strongly with the fact that everywhere in Mexico the worst bits of road are those which, in old Spanish days, were handsomely and well paved; and which, during the disturbed period of the early Republic, were neglected and allowed to go to decay. It is depressing to see so many evidences of past magnificence and present poverty. It was almost dusk when, after skirting the edge of a deep gorge, we reached a piece of bad road, where the coach with difficulty made its way, with frightful jolts and pitchings, till we drew up at Venta Colorado. Here the coach was finally abandoned. Our animals were packed and mounted, and after fussing and quarreling with our ugly cochero as to whether he or we should carry the bulk of our baggage, we started. The distance was not great. It was down hill, and we had to pick our way with great care over the rough road, filled with loosened and separated blocks of ancient paving.
This district, in one respect, reminded us of the Tarascan country. Every house along the road was a sales-place, where drinks, cigarettes, fruit and bread were offered, and each had the little boarded window, open when sales were solicited, and closed when business stopped. The houses, too, were log structures with shingled four-pitched roofs, and the houses in the town were well built, cement-walled, with low-sloped, far projecting tile roofs supported on trimmed beams. One might as well have been in Patzcuaro, Uruapan, or Chilchota. Again the cochero; we had told him that the stuff should go to the jefatura, and not to the hotel; he told us with great insolence that the jefatura was closed, and that it would be impossible to see the jefe and that the stuff would remain at the hotel; he followed us, when we went to the jefe's house, and great was his surprise when he found our order efficacious. We had a long talk with the jefe, who told us that few indians lived in the town, and that none of them were Totonacs; he assured us that, though there were no Totonacs in Huachinango, we could find them in abundance at Pahuatlan, to which he recommended us to go. The nearest indian town to Huachinango is Chiconcuauhtla, but it is Aztec. The next day was spent in town, waiting for our other baggage, and for the jefe to arrange our orders and lay out our journey. My day of fever was on, and I spent it mostly in bed. There were many indians in the market, most of whom were Aztecs, though a few were Otomis. The men wore dark brown or black cotones; the enaguas of the women were wool and were dark blue or black. Many carried on their shoulders carry-pouches, consisting of two rectangular frames of sticks, corded together along the lower side, and kept from opening too widely, above, by a net of cords at the ends. The indians of Chiconcuauhtla are easily recognized by their little flat, round caps. Late in the afternoon the bands of maskers, here called the huehuetes, were out. There were a dozen of them, dressed in absurd costumes; a bewhiskered Englishman in loud clothing, a gentleman, a clown, a lady, etc. These all went, by twos, on horseback; a clown and a devil and a boy with a prod, on foot, accompanied them. The duty of the latter, who remotely resembled death, was to prod the unhappy devil. They were accompanied by noisy crowds the several times they made the rounds of the town, keeping up the peculiar trilling, which we had noticed at Tulancingo. At dusk, these maskers dismounted and promenaded in couples about the plaza.
Nowhere, as in this region, have we had so much difficulty with regard to animals. The demands were so exorbitant that we insisted upon the jefe making the arrangements. He received us in anything but a pleasant mood, but acceded, and finally we secured four horses and four mules, for which we were to pay for two full days, and a foot mozo to whom we also were to pay two full days' wages. As the jefe himself had made this arrangement, we consented to it, but the man who was outfitting us then demanded pay for the mozo who went to bring back the horses and for the fodder of the animals. At this, even the jefe balked, declaring that he was not in favor of really robbing the gentlemen. Paying him the seventeen dollars and twenty-five cents, in order that there might be no further discussion, we started. Just as we left, the man who supplied the animals decided that our loads, which before had been so large, were really not too large for three mules, which num ber was actually sent with us, though we had paid for four. We were ready for starting at seven, but it was ten before we left. Meantime, clouds had gathered, and just as we started, rain began. There were first several separate showers, and then a steady downpour, which lasted almost till we reached Pahuatlan. All the blankets had been packed away, and we rode through the rain until our clothes were drenched through and through. For three hours this continued, and it was impossible to see anything of the country through which we passed. Finally, however, as we reached a great crest, and looked down into the valley beyond, the sky was clear and we could see something of the scene about us. The descent we were to make, and the slope in front, were covered with sugar-cane, broken here and there by great patches of pineapples. With each plantation of sugar-cane there was a little shelter of poles under which was a sap-trough or boiling-tank, while at the side of and behind the shelter was a rude mill, the power for which was furnished by a yoke of oxen. Boys fed the fresh cane between the crushing rollers, and the sap, as it ran out, was carried in little troughs to vats. Not at all these little shelters was sugar-making in progress, as we passed, but over both slopes many columns of smoke indicated places where the work was going on. The fire in the vat kept the sap boiling, and a man standing near with a great ladle, pierced with holes, kept dipping up and pouring out the hot sap. When we started up the great ascent we had no hint of Pahuatlan, and, when we reached the summit, could see nothing of it. But hardly had we begun the descent before we saw the large and handsome town below, but still with a long slope and a sharp ascent to be passed, before we could reach it. From the brook-side, at the bottom of the valley, almost to the village itself, we passed through a dense growth of bananas, which seemed to have suffered some damage, as many were dry and yellow, and individual leaves were curiously tattered and jagged. Among them grew other plants, coffee, orange-trees, peaches, and cane. When we reached the town, my heart sank; a church with handsome dome and modern tower, a planted plaza with central fountain, buildings, of two stories with gaudy fronts and portales, surrounding three sides of the square, augured better for comfort while we were in the place, than for work on Totonacs. We rode up to the municipio, where we found the presidente, a rather stylish young fellow, who was interested in our work and helpful. The town controls fourteen thousand persons, and its name is derived from that of a large ahuacate, the Aztec name of which is pahuatl. The presidente assured us that there was no Totonac town, properly speaking, within the limits of the municipio. For all this district, Orozco y Berra makes many errors. Atla, which he lists as Totonac, is really Aztec. The presidente, upon a local map, showed us the interesting way in which natural barriers limit idioms. Two little streams, coming together at an acute angle, may divide three languages—one being spoken in the angle and one on either side. In Tlaxco, a small village in this municipio, four idioms are spoken—Aztec, Otomi, Totonac and Tepehua.
Two years before, just as my work was ending, we were in the great Otomi town of Huixquilucan, in the state of Mexico. While resting at midday, I noticed a neatly-dressed and clean young indian, plainly not Otomi, with whom I conversed. He was an Aztec, and much interested in the work we were doing. In our conversation, he told me that I would find much of interest in the state of Hidalgo, and particularly called my attention to the making of paper from bark, which he had observed in the town of San Gregorio, two years before. This particularly interested me, and I then made notes regarding the method of getting to San Gregorio. I was advised by him, in case of going to that place, to talk with Don Pablo Leyra, of Huehuetla, who was himself an Indian and a man of consequence in the district—a sort of cacique among his people. Several years ago, I had first learned from Señor Eurosa, a Mexican Protestant clergyman, that in the little town of Tlacuilotepec, there still survive interesting pagan practices. In planning our present journey, I had arranged to visit San Gregorio and Tlacuilotepec for the purpose of investigating this manufacture of paper and these pagan customs. Inquiring of the presidente of Pahuatlan about his indians, I asked regarding paper-beating, and discovered that it was done at the nearest indian village of San Pablito, Otomi. We were told that bark of several species of trees was used—jonote, dragon, and mulberry; that the paper is usually made secretly and in-doors; that the passing traveller can hear the sound of light and rapid pounding as he passes through the village; that it is made in every house, and the proper season is when the sap runs, April to June; San Pablito is the only village in the municipio where it is made. It is used in brujería (witchcraft); other paper can be bought much cheaper, but only this kind is serviceable. It is cut into muñecos; representing human beings and horses and other animals, and these are used to work injury to human beings and beasts, being buried in front of the house or in the corral. The judge, who was sitting by, told us that a prisoner brought before him for trial was found to carry such a paper figure, which was sewed through the body with thread and had its lips sewed also; he learned that this figure represented himself, and that the lips were sewed to prevent him from pronouncing judgment on the prisoner. They assured me that the nearest point for finding Totonacs or Tepehuas, in sufficient numbers for my purpose, was in the district of Tenango del Doria, where, at Huehuetla, we would find the largest Tepehua town, and that in Pantepec, which is in the district of Hauchinango, and near Huehuetla, we would find Totonacs. We had had such ill success in locating Totonacs so far, that, at our suggestion, they telephoned to the jefe at Tenango inquiring regarding the populations of Huehuetla and Pantepec, with the result that we decided to visit those towns.
At Tulancingo, we had been snubbed by the jefe, who would not treat with us outside of office hours. When the presidente of Pahuatlan took us to the house where arrangements had been made for our accommodation, we found a garrulous, simple-minded, individual who was set to clear our room and make our beds. To myself, as leader of the company, he was attentive and ceremonious in the highest degree, and on several occasions he took my companions to task for their ignorance regarding the proper deference to display toward me. He inquired whether we were acquainted with Señor Arroyo, jefe politico of Tulancingo, and then informed us, with pride that that gentleman was his "Señor Padre." "If so, Señors, you may well ask why you see me thus dressed in calzoncillos. For two reasons: first, I am not a legitimate son, no, Señors, my lady mother, who bore me was an Otomi indian, but I am the acknowledged illegitimate son of my honored Señor Padre. Second, I had the misfortune to be involved in trouble in the district of Del Doria, which forced me to flee from that district to escape the jefe. But, sir, my Señor Padre said to me, 'son, I am the jefe politico of Tulancingo and the governor of the State is Pedro L. Rodriguez; I am his intimate friend, and we shall succeed in ousting that jefe in Tenango del Doria who has ordered your arrest.'" He also told us of one time, when his Señor Padre and an inspector visited that unfortunate district as an investigating committee, and found the jefe guilty and put him in jail incomunicado. He also told us of the band of Pahuatlan, justly famous, which made so great an impression in one town it visited, that it determined to go to Tulancingo to serenade the jefe of that district, his honored Señor Padre. "And I was invited, sir, not that I am a musician or know one note from another, but because I am of the family of the gentleman who was to be honored, and as a mark of distinguished favor to both members of the family. The band played so beautifully, that it was not allowed to stop until half-past-eleven at night, when it retired in great triumph." All this was very interesting, the first time it was told us, but the natural son remained while we ate supper, and afterwards, following us to our sleeping-room, kept up the repetition until two were already in bed and asleep and the others wished to be, when, finally, we turned him out and locked the door upon him for the night. We have stated that we paid for four animals to bring our baggage hither, while but three were actually employed; the animals, both pack and passenger, started on their journey for Huachinango at half-past-four in the afternoon, though we had paid both beast and man two full days' wages.
Tlacuilotepec is a dependency of Pahuatlan. We started for our day's trip thither on a good lot of animals, at eight o'clock in the morning, with two foot mozos for carriers. The journey was delightful. For a little, we followed a trail down the left-hand bank of a fine ravine. Nearly at the foot we struck to the left, through a little cut, and were surprised to find ourselves upon the right-hand slope of another gulf of immense depth. A few minutes later, we reached the point where the two streams united. And from there on, for a long time, we followed the bottom of a great gorge. The rock walls were bold and often sheer, and the upper line of mountain horizon was graceful and varied. The cliffs were mostly limestone, and presented remarkable examples of folding and dislocation. The long roots of trees, following exposed rock surfaces downward for yards, and twisting and bending to find lodgment in the crevices, were curious. Great tufts of a plant with long, narrow, light-green leaves hung down along vertical rock faces. In little caverns, at the foot of cliffs, were damp spots filled with ferns and broad-leaved caladiums, and brilliant clusters of begonias in bloom. At several places, the water of springs or underground streams gushed forth, in natural rock-basins, or from under projecting ledges. At one spot, there was a dainty basin of limestone into which a pretty veil of spring water fell gracefully. We crossed and recrossed the stream many times. Everywhere we were within sound of the creaking sugar-mills, and in sight of the ladling of boiled sap; everywhere we met arrieros driving animals loaded with little loaves of native sugar; everywhere the forest was broken with little patches of sugar-cane, growing on the slopes. Here and there, we saw cables slung across the streams, for passing cargoes at high water. At one place was a fine display of basaltic columns, the position of which was horizontal, the flow having come up as a sheet injected from below, and not as a surface out-flow, where the jointage would have been vertical. Finally, leaving this beautiful ravine, we made a rapid ascent, passing a little village consisting almost wholly of a school, noisy with study, and a church, with a separate square tower. Shortly after reaching the summit, and dipping slightly, we found Tlacuilotepec. It is not a large town. At its center mestizo, it has charge of several indian villages. We had been referred for information concerning surviving paganism to a Señor Martinez. We were interested in finding that the presidente of the town was a brother of this gentleman, and that both were Protestants. We were received with great cordiality, not only on account of our official introduction, but also because we brought an unofficial introduction from Protestant friends. Two charming beds were arranged in the little meeting-place in Señor Martinez's own house, and two others, almost as good, were secured for the others of the party, in the little meson of the village. As we chatted, we were refreshed with a delicious orange-wine, which is made here, and during our days spent with Don Quirino, we had meals fit for a king. The indians under his charge are Otomis, and in one little village, Santa Maria, Totonac. When we came to inquire regarding the pagan practice for which we were searching, we learned that it was peculiar to the Otomis, and formed their annual costumbre—custom. They believe that Montezuma is to come again. Meantime, from him come health, crops, and all good things. Their costumbre is a feast given in his honor, of which he is believed to partake. A jacál—hut—is prepared in a retired spot; a table is constructed full length of the house within, and upon this a feast is spread of which all partake.
Upon this table they place many muñecos of paper; formerly these were made of the bark paper, but they are now made of ordinary paper bought in the stores. There may be so many of these that they cover the table an inch or two thick. The feasters shove money, usually small pieces of silver, beneath these figures. They then kill turkeys and hens and chickens, and sprinkle the blood from the headless bodies over the muñecos. This they do that Montezuma may be propitiated, and give them what they desire; the money and the muñecos, sprinkled with blood, are left upon the table after the feast, the former being stolen by passing mestizos.
The presidente stated that, at the pueblito of Santa Maria, where we should go upon the morrow to see some Totonacs, they had just celebrated their annual costumbre. He said that it might be somewhat similar, as they had sent him a headless turkey, as a gift. In the morning, we visited this village accompanied by the two brothers. A half hour's ride brought us to the spot, from which one gets one of the most lovely views in all this picturesque country. Standing on the end of a little spur upon which the village lies, one sees the handsome river below, which separates this municipio from that of Villa Juarez. To the left, rise magnificent mountains covered with brilliant green vegetation, broken here and there by bare rock faces, from the base of which gentle slopes, extending down to the river, are covered with little corn-fields. Cuauhtepec, a Totonac pueblo, where all are said to dress in white, lies upon this stream, and immediately back from it the cultivated fields of the village stretch up to the very crest. To the right, is seen the little ranch Tanchitla, with its fields, a strip of green forest separating these from the fields of the next village, Tlapajualla. The stream abounds in fish of various kinds, which form an important food supply. They are, however, rapidly being destroyed by the practice of exploding dynamite cartridges in the water, by which not only the adult fish, but the young, of all ages, are killed. Unless the practice soon ceases, and there are rigid laws against it, there will soon be no fish left in any of the streams of this whole region. This particular stream bears different names in different portions of its course—thus it is called Tanchitla, Pahuatlan, San Marcos, Caxones, Xico, etc.
Having noticed that here, as at Pahuatlan, the banana trees were badly injured, we learned that this havoc was the result of two recent hail-storms, which were felt over a wide area, and which were of almost unexampled severity. By the time we had enjoyed the outlook, and learned a little of the village, the messenger who had been sent to call the people together had performed his duty, and a picturesque group of our long-sought Totonacs were at hand. The women wear quichiquemils of native cotton cloth, the neck opening of which is over-hemmed with black wool. Lines of crosses, rosettes, birds, etc., are worked in various-colored wools upon them. Many of them have a broad line of color, in geometrical combinations, running vertically up the middle. The men wear cotones of black and white.
Twenty-five or thirty of the more important men of the village were now taken to the schoolhouse, where the presidente inquired, for me, in regard to the costumbre. At first a little hesitancy was shown, but soon all were interested and talked freely. The costumbre comes at about the same time each year, though not upon a fixed date. Its purpose is to secure health, good weather and crops for the coming year, though it may be held on the occasion of pestilence. Everyone, even widows and old maids, brings something for the feast. The celebration is held in some large house, and lasts through two days; floral decorations are arranged in the four corners of the room, candles are lighted, and copal is burned. The first day, each person brings a handful of earth from his field, which is placed in a heap upon the floor. Fowls and animals are slaughtered for the occasion; their heads are cut off and their blood is sprinkled upon the earth. After feasting and drinking, a dance follows, the dancers wearing crowns and necklaces of yellow arnica flowers, and carry in their hands wands made of pine-splints wrapped with corn-husks, and with a flower of arnica tied to each end. The second day, corn on the ear and beans are brought instead of earth, and these are sprinkled with blood. On both days, blood-sprinkled material is carried home, and the seed and earth are later put into the field. In the feasting-room, two paper lanterns are hung from the ceiling; these are stuck over with gilt and colored paper disks and stars. They represent the sun and stars. Upon these lanterns a cross of blood is made, at the time when the earth and seed are sprinkled. After the dance ends on the second day, children shoot at the lanterns with small arrows and try to break them. Disappointed that no mention had been made of bark paper in connection with this ceremonial, we asked whether they ever used it. They answered promptly in the affirmative. For what? To wrap ocotes. With this, the man who told me hastened out and came back with a little parcel in his hand. This consisted of twelve little sticks of pine about three inches long; they were tied together with a band of thread or bark fibre, and were stained with blood; these were wrapped in a piece of green banana leaf, the upper face of the leaf being placed inside and the base of the leaf kept downward. When it had been thus carefully folded, it was carried to the field and buried in a hole, carefully dug, so that the top of the package was close to the surface of the ground, and the face of the leaf wrapping was directed toward the rising sun. To anyone who has studied American indian religions, these two costumbres suggest much of interest.
The young man who had been most interested in our proper understanding of the costumbre was anxious that we should see the village idols. These are kept concealed, apparently in a cave, though it is possible that they are buried in the ground. At all events, they exist, and in considerable number. A lively discussion ensued as to whether it would be proper to show them to us, and it was decided that nothing ought to be done until the old woman, who is at the head of the pagan practices of the village, should be present. It seems that in the costumbre, already described, there are four priests or leaders. One of these is the old woman just mentioned, and the other three are men. She was sent for, and while we waited, we were told that, if we desired to see the lanterns that were used in the last costumbre, they were still preserved in the santocalli. Santocalli is a mongrel word—from Spanish santo, saint, and the Aztec calli, house. It was a little structure of adobe and canes, close to the schoolhouse, and fronting with it upon the little plaza of the village. It had a two-pitched thatched roof and a single door in the front. After some demur, it was opened, and we entered. It consisted of a single plain room with two benches made of beams along the wall. At the back was a terrible Christ and Virgin, and, to the right and behind, another Virgin. These Virgin figures were both small and unattractive, and both wore quichiquemils. In front of the Christ and larger Virgin was a simple altar built against the wall. In the floor, directly in front of it, were four small hollows. To the right of the altar, a flat stone was set into the floor. In front of the altar stood a small table on which were censers and candle-sticks. Underneath this table, the space between the four legs was occupied by a heap of ashes; in front and behind this were ill-defined basin hollows. To beams in front of these were hung the almost globular paper lanterns already mentioned. When we had seen these lanterns, and were about to leave, the old bruja appeared, with her female acolyte. She was furious over the desecration of strangers entering the santocalli, without her presence. She was a striking figure; very small, with a wrinkled, shrewd and serious, but not unkind, face; her white hair was almost concealed by her rebozo, which was folded square and laid upon her head with a portion flowing behind. The most striking thing was her great devotion, and complete unconcern regarding all around her. Entering, she hastened to the altar, knelt,—touched her forehead to the edge—and in a clear but not loud voice crooned an impassioned cry to Christ, to San Jose and to the Virgin. Imperiously turning to her acolyte, she seized the censer filled with copal, and, having lighted it, incensed the figures. Turning to the presidente, she asked whether he were going to placate the saint for invasion by giving aguardiente and candles, both of which appeared, as if by magic, when she was given money. Pouring aguardiente from the bottle into a glass, she poured into the four basins in the ground before the altar, before the Virgin, before and behind the heaps of ashes under the table, and then placed it to the lips of the Virgin and Christ, lovingly requesting them to partake. She then compelled each of the three men priests to make the same libation. Taking the unlighted candles, she made passes with them, over and across the figures, first to one side and then to the other, brushing the wicks against them. This, too, had to be done by the three assistants, after which the old lady began to make vigorous personal use of the bottle of spirits, though she was not at all selfish, urging, not only her acolytes, but the presidente, his brother, and the chief guest, to partake. It was too late to suggest a visit to the idols, but the curious scene we had witnessed gave sufficient food for thought. Hurrying back to Tlacuilotepec, we ate a last excellent dinner, which had been long waiting, and at three left for Pahautlan. Our host, who had been unremitting in his attention, refused all money. At certain indian houses which we passed upon our homeward way, we saw curious pouches made of armadillo-shells, hanging upon posts or on the house walls. We learned that they were used at planting-time for holding seed-corn. When the shell is freshly removed from the animal, it is bent into the required shape, and then packed full with wet ashes, to make it retain its form in drying. Though it was half-past three when we left, the way was so cool and delightful that we made the journey in three hours.
During our day at Pahuatlan, with a guide furnished by the presidente, I made the journey on foot to Atla, an Aztec town, famous for the little cotton sacks with red wool patterns, which are almost universally carried by men throughout this district. White cotones, with narrow, dark stripes and a transverse band of red decoration at each end, and white quichiquemils, decorated with brilliant designs in red wool, are also made here. Our object was not so much to see the village and the garments, as to visit a famous witch's cave, situated in the noble pinnacle of rock, plainly visible from Pahuatlan. The whole party started out from Pahuatlan, but at the bottom of the great slope, I left my companions to swim, while the guide and I, crossing a pretty covered bridge, scarcely high enough for a man of my height wearing a sombrero, went on. It was a long climb to the village, but, when we reached there, my mozo with great glee called my attention to bruhería directly at the side of the church. In front of the building, to the right of the door as one enters, is a hole in the ground, into which a few large stones have been clumsily thrown or laid. Here chickens, flowers, eggs, etc., are buried, in order to secure good luck or to restore health. Carefully removing some of the stones, we saw ample evidences of such offerings, in bones, bits of egg-shells, and dried flowers. From here, the climb was easy to the crest overlooking the village, and to the curious tower-like mass projecting conspicuously from it. The cave is situated in this mass of rock and faces almost east; it is a shallow cavern, well-sheltered and dry, perhaps fifty feet wide along the cliff's front, though only the eastern third, which is the more completely worn out, is used for ceremonies; it is, perhaps, no more than eight or ten feet deep, and has greater height than depth. Within the cave itself we found a little table, a small chair, and two blocks for seats. On either side of the table, a pole was set obliquely against the wall. The upper end of the left-hand pole was tied with a strip of palm which was looped through a hole in the rock wall. At two or three other places, strips of palm had been slipped through natural holes in the wall, behind bars of stone, and then tied. To the left, were a censer and two candle-sticks, behind which, lying obliquely against the wall, were twenty-five or thirty dance-wands. These were sticks wrapped with corn-husks and tufted with clusters of flowers tied about the middle and at each end. The flowers used were mostly the yellow death-flower and purple ever-lastings. Two or three of them were made with the yellow death-flower—cempoalxochil—alone. A few were made of xocopa leaves. While only twenty-five or thirty were in position, hundreds of old ones lay on the bank to the left. Three small crosses of wood were placed near the wands; much white paper, clipped and cut into decorated designs, was lying about, as also wads of cotton, colored wools, long strings of yarn, and bits of half-beaten bark fibre. Near the front edge of the cave was a hole with large stones; here, with a little scratching, we found feathers and bits of bone of turkeys and hens, that had been sacrificed, as well as splints of pine tied together with bark string. Wooden spoons, probably used in the banquets of the witches, were stowed away in crevices of the rock. Chains of the yellow death-flower were looped up against the wall. It is said that the people of the town never enter here, but only brujas. Nor is it the exclusive property of the witches of Atla, of whom there are but two or three, but those of several pueblos make their rendezvous in this cave. In fact, from the crest, we could see two other little towns that are interested in this cave, though located in another valley.
THE PAGAN PRIESTESS AND HER ACOLYTE; SANTA MARIA
THE WITCH'S CAVE AT ATLA
Don Antonio, at whose house we stayed, told us that San Pablito is worse for bruhería than Atla. He says the people of that town make use of muñecos of wood, of various sizes. For these he makes many little shoes, for which he charges five or six reales a pair; at that time he had orders for three pairs, and showed us the little forms or lasts he employs, and the special leather; they are particular about this, using black for shoes for males and red for females. He says they also use little hats, serapes, enaguas and quichiquemils, for their muñecos. Some of these dolls they place on the altar in the church, and consider them as sacred, though they remove them when they expect the priest. Others they take to a lake in the district of Tenango, near San Pablo el Grande, and leave them there as offerings. They also throw money and other offerings into the lake.
We started at eight o'clock the following morning, bound for Tenango del Doria. For a little time, after leaving Pahuatlan, we mounted, soon finding ourselves at the top of a magnificent crest. From here the descent was rapid and profound; in front of it rose an equally abrupt slope to an even greater height; toward the left this presented a wonderful knife-edge crest, jagged and toothed astonishingly, and on this great slope, below the level where we were, we saw San Pablito, prettily located. As it was Sunday, most of the people were on their way to market, and we saw many Otomis, whose dark color and broad faces reminded us of those in the state of Mexico, though they did not present so marked a type. The enaguas of the women consisted of an upper white strip and a lower striped one, the colors in the latter being blue and white, or white with a broad band of purplish blue, in which were woven white designs. Their quichiquemil was usually rather plain; white with a broad band of red, magenta or purple, parallel to the edge. It might, however, be decorated with a number of very small geometrical, floral, and animal figures, worked in brown, purple and blue, which were never so crowded as to destroy the white background. At 9:30 we reached the schoolhouse and called out the teacher, to whom we delivered a letter which the presidente of Pahuatlan had given us for him. He summoned the town authorities and we made known our wish to see some of the bark paper. At first there was some hesitancy, but, at last, an old woman produced two sheets which, she said, she made the day before. At our wish she then brought out the tabla, or board of wood on which the beating is done, and the stone for beating. The latter was smaller than the ancient beating-stone, and not grooved upon the beating surfaces; it had, however, the side notches for convenient holding in the hand. The board on which the beating is done is smooth, and is constantly cleaned and soaped. Two kinds of bark are used, moral and xalama, the former giving white, the latter a purplish paper. The bark is thoroughly washed with lye-water taken from soaked maize; it is then washed with fresh water and thoroughly boiled; it is split into thin strips which are carefully arranged upon the board. First the border is laid out the size of the sheet to be made; then, within this, strips are laid lengthwise, side by side. All of this is then beaten with the stone until the sheet of paper results. The paper when finished, presents two sides quite different from each other; one, smooth and finished, is the surface that was below in the beating, while the other, rougher, is the one that was beaten with the stone. The sheets are dried in the sun, carefully folded into convenient size, and done up in packages of a dozen, which are sold to the indians in all the country round about. We secured seventeen dozen sheets of this paper, and samples of the bark, and the board and stone used in the beating.
While arrangements were being made for showing us these details regarding paper-making, we visited the village church, which was very mean and bare; we were disappointed to find nothing suspicious in the way of muñecos. It was suggested that we should visit the oratorio, where we found more. Here they held their costumbre in June, or thereabouts. Saints were arranged in the back of the room on a raised altar; in front of this, running through the middle of the room, was a table on which stood censers and small candle-sticks of rude pottery. Upon the wall, over the saints, were decorations of rushes. Here the whole village feast and dance. There were no muñecos present, but we found plenty of cut paper, most of which was probably decorative; the most curious was cut into groups of human figures, some of which had crowns and horns, or tufts of hair, upon the top of their heads. These were said to be decorations for Montezuma, in whose honor the feast was given. Leaving San Pablo at eleven, we rapidly made what remained of the great ascent. As we neared the jagged crest of rock, it appeared more irregularly gashed and pinnacled than ever. At the crest, leaving the old road, which passed directly through the fantastic mass of rocks, we reached San Nicolas, from which, on looking backward, we gained a magnificent view of the valley and a fine waterfall, which shone like a sheet of polished metal, far up the mountain side. From here our road descended gently, but winding, in and out, through a series of narrow valleys, lying between parallel ridges. As we passed the crest, we saw a level field of green corn, which looked as if we must reach it in a few minutes. But the curves of the road proved frightfully long. It was after two o'clock before we reached the green field, and, just below it, Tenango del Doria, and made our way to the jefatura.
When the jefe came, we found, to our surprise, that he was the Don Pablo Leyra of whom Xochihua had told us two years before. He is a pure indian, tall, smooth-faced, of gentlemanly manner, and with all the reserve characteristic of his race. He has lived at Huehuetla since boyhood, forty-four years, till just now, and has but recently come to take the position of jefe politico. He has not yet moved his family from Huehuetla, and occupies a single room in his office-building. He secured us a pleasant room, with good beds for the older, and good mattresses for the younger, members of our party, in a house near-by upon the hill. The jefatura fills one side of the little plaza; around the other side are tiendas, with high-pitched single roofs, and private houses. The town suffers much from nublina, and is cold most of the time.
INDIANS FISHING IN STREAM
PAGANISM AND CHRISTIANITY
We asked Don Pablo about the lake, concerning which we had heard. He says it is not as much visited as formerly. While used by Otomis, and others of this district, it is most favored by the Huaxtecs, parties of whom go there from long distances. They visit it when there is drought, for fear that the siren, who lives in it, is annoyed at their neglecting to make gifts; when there is too copious rain, they visit it to beg her to desist from sending more, and, when crops have been destroyed, to placate her anger. Sometimes two or three hundred indians are in these companies. They bring muñecos of wood, cloth, clay, or even metal; such are shod, clad and hatted. They leave these upon the shore. They also bring seeds and strew them in the water, and some throw money in. They also make offerings of turkeys and hens. Sometimes these bands spend several days on the shore, dancing and eating.
We found that Don Pablo had arranged all our plans. We were to leave at nine, dine at twelve at San Bartolo, leave there at one, and reach Huehuetla between five and six. It was really only a quarter-past-nine when we did start, and the jefe, himself, saw us on our way. The journey was uneventful; the descents were gradual; we saw San Bartolo long before we reached it; and, between it and us, there lay a valley, like a narrow gash, down which we had to go, and up the other side of which we had to climb. We passed Santa Maria, an insignificant town, just before reaching the edge of this gully. From there we saw, in the mountain ahead, above and behind San Bartolo, a great cavern which we believe must belong to witches. Arriving at San Bartolo, we found the market in full progress, and had ample opportunity to see the characteristic dress of the women, with the little black, red and purple designs embroidered upon the white ground. We were impressively received at the town-house, for Don Pablo had telephoned them to be ready. Still, we waited a long time for the promised dinner, but at half-past-one climbed up a steep hill, in the rear of the town-house, to the home of the presidente's father, where a very elaborate meal had been prepared, with wine and luxuries. All payment was refused, and, after we had rested and refreshed ourselves, we left at half-past-two. The road was long; it followed the side of a great gorge, into which it descended abruptly; in this gorge we saw magnificent vegetation. The trees were heavily hung with long vines and ferns; parasitic fig trees, hugging victims whose life sap they were stealing, were abundant. The country was of limestone. On the whole, the road was good, but, here and there, were patches where we traveled over sharp and jagged out-croppings of rock, and near Huehuetla we were forced to make some stiff climbs up the cliff sides. Flocks of parrots were numerous, especially toward evening. The stream was a handsome one, with clear, deep water; we crossed and recrossed many times. The foot-paths rarely crossed, being cut sometimes, as a narrow trail, in the rock of the cliff. Noticeable were numerous silvery lines of water falling over the cliff, several of which must have been hundreds of feet in height; these little threads of water were impregnated with lime, and deposited material in a sheet upon the bank over which they flowed, so that trails of brown tufa marked their location; the lower ends of these deposits expanded into fan-like masses of tufa, over which the water trickled, dripped or fell. Where there was not sufficient water to produce a stream and fall, but enough to keep the tufa moist, the growth of ferns, and other delicate vegetation, was brilliant and striking. We passed a number of coffee and sugar ranches on the road. It was dark long before we reached Huehuetla, and had it not been for the moonlight struggling through the clouds, we should have had difficulty in traveling the last portion of the road. At 7:35 we arrived, and went at once to the large and handsome house of Don Pablo himself, where we were expected, and where an elaborate supper was being made ready. The largest room in the house was put at our disposal and good beds and cots, beautifully clean and carefully made, were ready. Formerly, Don Pablo was the presidente of the town. His successor was at the house to meet us, within five minutes after our arrival, and took supper with us. It is needless to say that in this town we met with no delays in our work. To our surprise, we found a fellow countryman, a civil engineer named Culin, from Philadelphia, who has done and is doing much work for the pueblos of this region.
Huehuetla is a large town, occupying a long valley hemmed in between mountains and bordering a stream. The streets are regular, and the view from the hills about, looking down upon the well-built houses and the intersecting streets, is very pretty. The houses have substantial walls of stone and mud, and many of them are white-plastered outside; all have a thick and heavy thatch. The plaza lies before the house where we stopped, and, to the right, the large church stands on a terrace somewhat above the town. A large school building, finer than many of the best in some large cities, was just being finished; its construction was due to Don Pablo's influence, and it was soon to be occupied. Meantime, the children were given instruction in the church, and at noon and evening, when their lessons were closed, they marched in double file, down the flight of steps in front of the church and across the plaza, where they separated and made their way home. During the time that we were working at this town, when the school children filed past, they always removed their hats in the most respectful manner. While there are many mestizos in the town, it may truly be called an indian town, the largest of those belonging to the Tepehuas. According to Orozco y Berra, Tepehua is not related to any other language in Mexico. We have not studied it sufficiently to be sure that he is right; it is, however, certain that the language has been much affected by the Totonac, if it is not related to it, and many words in the two languages are the same. The people of this tribe have a great reputation, more or less deserved, for cleanliness; probably it is comparative, contrasting with the neighboring Otomis, rather than positive. However that may be, both men and women are usually dressed in clean white clothing. The enaguas of the women are plain white; their belts have a foundation of white cotton, but raised designs of black wool are so thickly worked upon them that the white is quite inconspicuous.
The camisas and quichiquemils are generally white, with a vertical band of red, and with a few animal figures. Women wear many necklaces of bright beads, and braid their hair into two braids, which end with tapes of various colors,—brown, red, green, maroon, and black. These braids are brought together over the head and knotted in place. We secured no women for measure until we had practically completed the work with men, when they came with a rush, the whole twenty-five at once, dressed in their best clothing, and insisted that the work must be done inside the schoolhouse, out of sight, instead of on the street, where we had operated on the men. We had no opportunity to see any of the popular danzas, in some of which, we were told, songs were sung in the Tepehua language, but we did see examples of the little teponastls, or drums, used on these occasions; they are made from a round block, perhaps ten inches long and three inches in diameter; these are hollowed out below, so that two thin lips only are left above, which, when struck, give out far more musical tones than one might expect. The two nights that we were at Huehuetla, we saw men and women fishing in the stream; carrying blazing torches in their left hands, they waded out into the water and watched to see the dark bodies of the fish against the pebbly bottom of the stream; in the right hand they carried a machete, about a foot in length, with which they stabbed the fish, rarely missing.
We were now ready for the last tribe of the season, the Totonacs of Pantepec. Pantepec is in the district of Huachinango, and we had no order from the jefe; Don Valentino, the presidente of Huehuetla, said, however, that the presidente of Pantepec was his friend, and that he would give us a letter of introduction, which would serve all purposes. As we were to return by Huehuetla, we left the busts which we had made, and all but our most necessary baggage, at Don Pablo's house. Though we started at ten, we took the journey slowly, photographing and hunting birds. The road was a trail in a ravine, with all the beautiful scenery with which we now were so familiar. At one point we saw a curious phenomenon. The cliff rose vertically from the water's edge, at a place where the stream made a right angle; this cliff consisted of almost horizontal strata of varying hardness, so that some of the layers were worn a little more than others, leaving these projecting. In the space between these projecting layers, round river-pebbles, from the size of hen's eggs up to the size of a man's fist, were firmly wedged, so that it was with difficulty that they could be dislodged. Not a few, but hundreds of the pebbles, were thus wedged, so regularly and firmly that we could not believe the work to be that of nature, but suspected human hands. We learned, however, that nature really had done the work, on the occasion of a flood, the result of a cloud-burst, which swept into the valley two or three years before. At several places in this stream, we saw groups of from two or three to ten or twelve Totonac indians, who were fishing with little nets. Our trail led back and forth across this stream many times, and before we reached Pantepec we had made thirty-nine crossings. From our last crossing, we climbed a steep ascent, passing the little village of Tenasco, and found ourselves at Pantepec. We rode at once to the town-house, and were told that the presidente was sleeping; we went then to his house, where we were informed that he could not be disturbed. We left word that we must see him as soon as possible, and that he would find us at the municipio. Nearly three hours passed before he put in his appearance. Inasmuch as we had seen this man's jefe, and he knew our errand, we told the secretario to send a message for us to him at Huachinango. We carefully wrote out the message for forwarding, in which we told the jefe, that we had waited three hours for attention from the town officials, and asked how much longer we should put up with delay. We never heard his answer, but in less than ten minutes, the presidente, covered with perspiration, was waiting for our orders and every policeman or the force was ready for our bidding. The message he received from the jefe must have been vigorous, for not only was everything done for our comfort, but work was rushed. During the next day we measured ninety-eight men, photographed twelve subjects, and made moulds for all our five busts—an unparalleled day's labor. We were fortunate in one respect—that the men had been summoned that day for public labor. So far as men were concerned, they gave no difficulty as subjects. With the women it was different, and full half a day was taken in getting together our twenty-five types; not but what there were plenty of them, for our second day at Pantepec was market-day, and the plaza was gay with women, but they did not wish to be measured, and the whole town force, from presidente to the meanest topil, was afraid to meddle with them; at first, too, we had none but the most wretched cases, women broken down and worn out with years of labor. When nearly half our number had passed through our hands, and all presented this same unsatisfactory type, we were forced to make a sharp remonstrance, and only so did we get fair samples of young and middle-aged women.
At Pantepec the centre of the town is mestizo; the Indians consist of Otomis, of whom there are thirty households, and Totonacs forming the bulk of the population. It is easy to distinguish the women of the two tribes by the difference in dress. The quichiquemils are particularly picturesque. Both are more heavily loaded with embroidery than any Indian garments we had ever seen, but the styles of the two decorations are completely different. The quichiquemils of the Otomis are smaller and completely covered with red and black embroidery; those of the Totonacs are much larger, and portions of the white foundations may still be seen, notwithstanding the heavy patterns in brilliant colors—red, green, yellow and blue. Mothers put babies onto one side, with their little legs astride a hip, and then tie them firmly in place with an ayate, or carry-cloth, of cotton, thus leaving their hands free for work or other burdens. If we had difficulty measuring the Totonac women, we had still greater difficulty in photographing satisfactory groups of them. Neither pleadings nor bribes on our part, orders nor threats on the part of the officials, had much influence.
Pantepec is a large town, situated near the edge of the great mountain mass, and looking across a valley, which is backed by what appears to be a flat-topped, straight-edged, table mountain. The houses of the town are scattered over a considerable area upon the slope. The walls are of poles, heavily daubed with mud which is neatly and smoothly laid on. The corners of this mud covering are rounded, instead of angular, as usual elsewhere. The thatch is heavy and firm, and squarely cut along its lower edge, where it projects far beyond the walls. The plaza is above the town-house, and is extremely ugly; a kiosk, which certainly can lay no claim to beauty, stands in the centre; ugly shacks, used as tiendas, border a part of it along the main road. Striking, at this time, in the village were the colorín trees, some of which occurred in almost every enclosure; they were in bloom, and had long, slender, flaming-red, cigarette-shaped flowers, which appeared before the leaves, from trunks that were gnarled and brown and almost branchless. Many popular danzas are celebrated here, but none was taking place during our stay. San Gregorio, the town of paper-making, is not far from Pantepec, and large quantities of the bark paper are beaten in the little village of Ixcoyotla, which belongs to this municipio. Asking an old Otomi whether he knew about this paper, he answered us, with great cunning, that we probably knew as much of it as he did. He finally condescended to state that the muñecos of it were used in curing disease; that anyone who has a disease secures one of these muñecos and applies it to the diseased part. The presidente insisted that this paper was not made from jonote, but from uli, and that formerly it was much used in making strong and durable belts.
TOTONAC WOMEN; PANTEPEC
In starting back the next morning, we went down a different slope from the one by which we had come, with the result that we had to cross the stream five times more than before, making the full forty-four crossings, of which we had been warned by Culin while we were at Huehuetla. We made our way leisurely, stopped when we pleased, and at one point noticed a cave, which we had not seen before, just across the stream, at a point where it was at its deepest. The cave was so near the water's edge, that it could only be approached from the stream. The boys swam across and entered it to see if perchance they might find some of the paper figures used in bruhería. They found little of interest within; the walls and rocks were marked with crosses, and on the floor were hundreds of little sticks cut to various lengths. We were glad, indeed, to reach Don Pablo's house, to eat his good supper, and to occupy his good beds. Before we went to bed, Doña Panchita suggested that we ought to see certain muñecos kept by a man named Diego, and used as idols by the village. Accordingly, she sent orders that the man should bring his muñecos to the house for us to see. To this request, he returned the proper reply, that he would not do so; that they would be offended; that they were not toys to be carried about at the nod and beck of everyone. This greatly increased our interest, and we arranged for a trip to his house. We first sent a messenger forward, with word that we were coming, and ordered him to stay there to see that Diego did not run away or hide the idols. After supper, Doña Panchita, our company, Mr. and Mrs. Culin, and one or two others, picked our way by moonlight across the stepping-stones and foot-bridge, up a trail by coffee groves along a purling brook-side. We were soon at the house, and after some hesitation, Diego led us to the Holy of Holies. The muñecos were kept in a little house, which contained an altar built of boards, with fresh flowers for decoration. At the back of the altar, against the wall, were prints of Christian saints; on the altar were censers and an open bundle of copal. Two wooden boxes were at the right end of the altar, against the wall. These contained muñecos which, for some time, Diego hesitated to produce. Finally he took out an idol of rather fine-grained, brownish-gray stone; the head was large and infantile, with the Mongolian cast of countenance; its badly shaped and scrawny arms were raised so as to bring the hands together on the chest; the body was shapeless. This figure was clad in a suit of unbleached cotton, much too long and slender for it, and the arms of the camisa, and the legs of the calzones hung limp. When we had duly admired this figure, a second was produced—a pottery female-head, fairly shaped, with no body to speak of; this had glass earrings fastened in the ears. Next, a small headless figure was brought out; it was old, though probably made after the Conquest, and we agreed that it represented a padre. Next was a simple pottery head. Last was a figure, with small head and pointed cap, made apparently of pottery; the body had been pieced out to disproportionate length with wood, and ended in a pair of wooden feet; this was dressed in black velvet, and wore a black hat. These, Diego asserted, were all he had. After having expressed our delight with them, and our regret that we had not known what we were to see, that we might have brought with us some fine white copal as incense for these gods, we set them up in a straight line on the edge of the altar to make a flashlight picture. As we left, we gave Diego two reales to spend for the benefit of his gods. After we left, we were assured that he had finer ones of black stone, which he dresses in red, but we were content with the ones we had seen. These figures are particularly used on September 16th, San Miguel's day. They are also used at sowing-time, at harvest, and at the first cutting of sugar-cane. On these occasions, incense and candles are burned, the idols are taken in the hands, and to the sound of music, worshippers move the figures, causing them to dance. Pleased with this, they give good rains to the faithful worshippers. When there is too much rain, they go in procession to the river, playing music and dancing dolls; when arrived, they peg down many ayates and sacks, made for the purpose, into the water against the flow. These are dams, to stay the flood. On the other hand, when there is drought, a procession carries the idols to a cave, where a feast is given and a dance, with wands of flowers carried in the hands, indulged in.
Though the price for animals from Huehuetla to Las Tortugas was exorbitant, we had agreed to pay it—but told the man that, if he left later than six, it should be cut two dollars. It was long after eight before they appeared, and then it was only our own animals that were ready. We were forced to leave the packing to be done by the man himself without direction; we ourselves hurried along the trail, hardly stopping at San Bartolo on the way, arriving at Tenango at 4:15. Our animals were fagged, and we were soaked to the skin, having travelled through nublina most of the afternoon. Don Pablo received us with his usual courtesy, and had arranged for us to sleep at the same house, where we had been before. At bed-time, our man with the mules had not appeared, and we had received most contradictory and discouraging statements regarding him. He had started at nine with two mules and left half our stuff for another day; he had been seen at the river near San Bartolo with two mules heavily loaded, unable to proceed; he had concluded to stop at San Bartolo for the night, to push on to Tenango the next day, and reach Las Tortugas on the third. Dissatisfied and uncertain, we went to bed; still, we determined to leave at five, and so gave orders to our mozo. We rose at 4:15 and the horses were ready before five. Contradictory stories were again told us regarding our animals. Some said the man had passed with them at five o'clock; others that he had not yet come; others that he had spent the night at Santa Maria. Our foot mozo did not come, and sending the rest ahead, I waited for him. Hardly had they started, when Ramon galloped back to announce that the man was in town, that he had three animals and was nearly ready to leave. As he, himself, had told us that he must leave Tenango at three in order to reach Las Tortugas in time for the train, this was not reassuring. Ramon hastened on with the party. At six the mozo appeared and started at once. In a few minutes we passed our arriero who was packing, but not ready to start. I urged him to hasten, but did not wait. Mist had settled during the night, but it was now rising, and we could see the scenery, which, in wildness and beauty, was almost the equal of anything in Mexico, though with a character quite its own. Our trail ran along the side of a precipice; to our left rose great cliffs presenting almost vertical faces of smooth rock; the summits were jagged, and suggested that the mass consisted of stratified rocks tilted up on end. Just as we left town, two narrow and lofty parallel rocks suggested a gate-way. Further down, a mass was worn out into a sharp column, a little separated from the rock mass behind. On the right, was the precipice, ever abrupt, and sometimes the almost vertical bank of a yawning chasm. After an hour and a half over the fairly good road, we came to a grand ascent. It was magnificent, though difficult. In some spots the road was muddy, and at othersit was a series of rough stone steps; at still others, it was the unmodified bed of a mountain torrent. As we followed up this gorge, side-gorges joined it, in which we glimpsed pretty cascades, pits worn by little falls, trees, the trunks of which were covered with thick sheets of green moss, quantities of tree-ferns blighted by the late frost, cliffs, and wild forms of rock, in wonderful variety. At last I reached the summit and overtook Manuel, whose horse was completely fagged, and who had been forced to drop behind; for some time we saw the others before us, but somewhere they took a different trail, and we saw them no more. After a considerable descent, we made our final but easy rise. From here we were on a level road, which constantly improved until near Mepetec, while beyond it, we came to a true cart-road. From here a fine view presented itself, over a forest of pine trees to the clean brown plain so typical of Hidalgo, swept, as we soon found, by the equally typical Hidalgo wind. We rode rapidly from the herrería of the Trinidad to Metepec, and then to Las Tortugas, where we arrived at 11:40, having been five hours and a half upon the road. To our surprise, Louis and Ramon were not there. Having waited some time, as it was almost the hour for the train, we ordered dinner for two, but before we had begun to eat the others appeared. They had taken a short road, which did not go by Metepec, and travelled slowly that we might overtake them. After a good meal, we waited for our man with the pack animals. Meantime the train was preparing, and we watched it, realizing that if we missed it, we had a day of dust and scorching sun and heavy wind before us. The train's crew made all ready, the cry of "Vámonos" was given, and we settled down in desperation to await our tardy man. An hour after the train left, he arrived, received his fee less the two dollars, and started homeward. Twenty-three hours later we took the train, and our season's work was done.
VIEW OF PANTEPEC