THE MIXES REVISITED
(1899)
After resting at Oaxaca, from our trip into the high Mixteca, we made preparations for our new journey, leaving at three o'clock in the afternoon for the land of the Zapotecs and Mixes. Our late start compelled stopping at Tule for the night. In the morning we went on to Tlacolula, where we nooned, in order to see the jefe in regard to our work. He is a competent man, showed great interest in our plan, and gave valuable advice, in addition to the orders to his officials. He warned us that we might meet some difficulty at Milta, where we were planning to make our study of the Zapotecs, on account of the fiesta then in progress. He told us to notify him at once in case matters did not go well there.
IN TLACOLULA
TYPICAL ZAPOTEC HOUSE; TLACOLULA
The fiesta at Milta should have been a three days' affair. This year, however, it began on Sunday with the result that it filled four days. Reaching there in the afternoon of Monday, we found the whole town in great excitement and dissipation. The plaza had been enclosed with a fencing of poles, and toros were the amusement of the afternoon. The country sports with bulls are different from the regular bull-fights of the cities. Any one takes part who pleases, and while there is little of trained skill, there is often much of fun, frolic, and daring. The bull is led into the ring from outside by a lasso. It is then lassoed from behind and dragged up to a post or tree, to which it is firmly tied to prevent its moving. A rope is then tightly cinched about its middle and a man mounts upon the back of the beast, fixing his feet firmly in the rope below, between it and the animal, and winding his hands into it above. The ropes which hold the bull are then withdrawn so as to set it loose. Dozens of men and big boys, with jackets and serapes, then torment the beast, which, plunging and dashing at them, scatters them in every direction. Sometimes the angry animal attempts to break through the fence, causing excitement and consternation among the crowds who have been hanging to it and looking over. When, as sometimes happens, he does break through, there is great scattering before him, and closing in behind him, until he is again captured. The man riding on the bull's back clings as long as he can, in spite of the plunging and other frantic efforts of the animal to unseat him; comparatively few stay long in their uncomfortable position, and when they are thrown, much agility is required to escape from the furious animal.
As we rode into town these sports were in full blast; everyone, save the bull-fighters, was drunk. Now and then a tube of iron filled with powder was exploded. A band in front of the municipal house was supplying music. A little group of men with pitos and tambours strolled from place to place, playing. Much selling was in progress in the booths, the chief articles offered being intoxicating drinks. A cluster of drunken vocalists, sitting flat upon the ground, but almost unable to hold themselves upright, were singing horribly to untuned guitars. In front of the town-house a bench had been dragged out by the authorities for the benefit of the cura, who, seated thereon, was watching the sports with maudlin gravity. The presidente and other officials were standing by the padre, and all were drinking at frequent intervals. Thinking the moment opportune, I approached the party and handed them my documents; but both presidente and priest were far too drunk to realize my needs. Surveying the drunken town, I felt that it was necessary to act promptly and firmly if we were to accomplish anything before the fiesta ended. The only member of the government who was not extremely drunk that afternoon was the sindico. Calling him to me, I addressed him, scorning both priest and presidente. I refused to drink with them, saying that they were already too drunk to know their duties, and that both should be ashamed of their condition. At this time the cura asked me if I were a clergyman. On my replying no, he remarked that I looked like one. I told him yes, that I was frequently mistaken for one; that a priest in the Mixteca had even thought that I was a bishop. He then drunkenly inquired whether I were married, and on my replying no, made the astonishing observation that then, it was certain that I could not be a priest,—that every priest had one wife, bishops two, and archbishops three. This drunken priest had just been making certain observations to the presidente calculated to interfere with my work, and I felt that I now had my opportunity. So, turning upon him, I gravely reproved him for his remark. I told him that, in his language and his drunkenness, he was setting a bad example to his parish; that he should go at once to the curato, and not venture forth during the time that we remained in the town. Half-sobered by my order, he arose without a word, went to his house, and did not again appear for four days. Having gotten him out of the way, I turned to the drunken officials and told them that, early the next morning, I should begin my work, and that they must make the needful preparations; that I wished to measure, photograph, and make busts of the population. I told them that at present they were too drunk to aid me, but that the following morning things must be different; that enough at least to attend to my orders must be sober. After supper, attracted by the noise and hubbub, we set out to see the plaza. Torches were flaring in every direction, and considerable business was being done at all the booths. Crowds of drunken people were squatting on the ground in all directions; at the town-house the band of music was playing the jarabe, and 40 or 50 persons were dancing this lively dance. Old and young, men and women, boys and girls, all were taking part; no one paid attention to any other person, but each seemed to be trying to prove himself the most agile of the party. All were drunk, some astonishingly so. Occasionally a dancer would bump against such an one, who would fall head over heels. Immediately picking himself up, he would go at it again, with even greater vigor; sometimes one fell, of himself, in a helpless heap, and lay where he fell, until kicked out of the way or until the music stopped. All around was pandemonium; yelling, singing, cursing, fighting were in progress; the jail was crowded, but every now and then a new case was dragged up; for an instant the door was opened, and against the crowd, pushing from within, the new prisoner would be crowded into the cell. At one time in the evening a cry arose that a murder was being committed in the jail. The door was opened, the policemen crowded in, and the two men who had clinched and were battling were torn apart. One was dragged outside and thrown into the woman's jail, and for a time the air was blue with the most insulting cries. Convinced that no work could be done in the afternoons, we labored with the greatest possible diligence each morning. The first morning, going to the town-house, we ordered subjects to be brought. The presidente was drunk; the sindico also; still, some of the town officials were found in a condition able to do our bidding. Having measured a few of the officials, we proposed to take such prisoners as still remained in the jail, from the batch of the preceding day. There were eighteen of these, and with them we made a good beginning. Among the prisoners we found our first subject for modelling. Oiling him, we began to make the moulds. The back-piece had been applied; the second piece, covering the lower part of the face and upper chest, was hardening, and we were busily engaged in putting on the final application over the upper part of the face. At this moment the presidente staggered into the jail. When his eyes fell upon our subject, he stopped aghast; for a moment he was unable to speak; then he groaned out the words, "O horrible spectacle! To think of seeing a son of this town in such a position!" As I was beginning to laugh and ridicule him, the old mother of the young man came bursting into the jail, weeping and trembling, to see what fate had overtaken her son. Wringing her hands, the tears rolled down her face, and her voice was choked with sobs, as she asked pitifully whether he must die; she told me that he was her only support, and that, without him, she was absolutely alone. Taking the old woman outside, while the mask should be completed, I chatted with her, and as soon as the pieces of the mould were removed, delivered her precious son, unharmed, into her hands.
ORGANO CACTUS; TLACOLULA
WHERE TREE FERNS GROW
Just as we were ready for a new subject, a young fellow, better dressed than most, passed by. We called him to come in and be measured, but with a somewhat insolent manner, he walked by, paying no attention to our words. Sending the policemen for him, they soon returned with the report, "No quiere" (He does not care to come). To allow a first refusal was not to be thought of, so we ordered his return. Again the policemen came back with no result. Thereupon I declared that no more work should be done until he came; that time would be lost thereby, and the jefe's order would be disregarded, but that it was not our fault. Upon this the presidente informed us that the order was not explicit; it did not state that people must be measured; he would consult the civil code to see whether anyone but criminals must be measured. "Very good," said I, "do as you like; but unless that young man is brought in we shall send complaint to the jefe; send for a messenger at once to carry my report." At this stage, the policemen returned, telling me that the young man wanted did not belong to this town; that he could not be found, and probably had gone home. We told them that we did not believe them, but that we would proceed with our work; however, I said, that, if he really were a stranger but appeared again, I should order his immediate arrest and jailing. To this they all agreed; and we continued work until the town was again too drunk for anything to be done.
About the middle of the afternoon, when the bull-fighting was at its height, the young man wanted appeared in the ring as the chief fighter and attraction of the day. Stepping at once to the policemen I told them that he must be brought immediately to the town-house,—that the bull-fight must cease while our matters were arranged. With much grumbling and complaint they obeyed. The young man dismounted from his bull and was brought by the policeman before us. Here we asked the sindico the name and residence of the young man; and, as we supposed, he belonged in Mitla. Asking him why he had not come to be measured when he was told to do so, he replied that we had already measured him. Telling him that lying would not save him, I commanded him to appear the following morning for measurement,—that otherwise he would be sent a prisoner to Oaxaca. In the morning he did not appear until officials were sent to bring him. After he had gone through the ordeal of measurement he swore eternal friendship to me, and at no time afterward was I able to pass him, on the street or in the square, without his begging me to drink tepache with him.
Mitla is famous for its weaving; fine mantas of wool are made there in two chief styles—one a long strip of black or blue-black cloth, the other a rich red, sometimes banded or striped with black. These Mitla mantas are widely sold to Zapotecs, in all the district around, and form the characteristic women's dress. The Zapotecs of this district wear something on their feet that more nearly resembles true shoes than the footgear of any other Indians in southern Mexico. The sandal of the man has a projecting heel-flap which is bound around the ankles by means of thongs, and forms a good protection to the hind part of the foot. The women have not only such a flap, even higher than that used by the men, but also a broad strip of leather over the forward part of the foot, leaving the toes peeping out in front; between the heel flap and the toe covering, the foot is quite as well enclosed, excepting for the toes, as in a white man's shoe.
It was quite impossible, with the amount of work we had to do, and the difficulties under which we labored, to give the least attention to the ruins. We arranged, however, to make a photograph of the town authorities standing in the great court of one of the fine old buildings—a court the walls of which are covered with beautiful mosaic decorations, betraying taste and skill. The motley crew of half-drunk officials, miserably dressed, degraded, poor, in this scene of past magnificence, called up thoughts of the contrast between the government of old Mitla and the present,—of past magnificence and modern squalor.
THE CONTRAST; PAST AND PRESENT—MITLA
Having accomplished all we wished at Mitla, we again struck eastward toward the land of the Mixes. Late in starting, we made no attempt to go further than San Loren zo that afternoon. The old road was familiar, and from there on, through the following day, everything came back to memory. Even individual trees, projecting rock masses, and little streams, were precisely as we remembered them from our journey of three years earlier. We reached Ayutla in the evening a little before sunset. Riding directly to the municipal house we summoned the town government. We had not provided ourselves with orders from the jefe of the district, as Villa Alta, the jefatura, lay far out of our course. We planned to use our general letter from the governor. When the officials assembled we presented our order and explained it; we told them what we needed for the night, and arrangements were at once made for supplying us; we then told the presidente of the work we had before us, and informed him that, because his town was small, we should ask for only thirty-five men for measurement, and that these must be ready, early in the morning, with no trouble to us.
The presidente demurred; he doubted whether the people would come to be measured; we told him that they would not come, of course, unless he sent for them. When morning came, although everything had been done for our comfort, there was no sign of subjects. That no time might be lost, we took the presidente and three or four other officials, who were waiting around the house; then, with firmness, we ordered that he should bring other subjects. The officials were gone for upwards of an hour, and when they returned, had some ten or twelve men with them. "Ah," said I, "you have brought these, then, for measurement?" "On the contrary, sir," said the presidente, "this is a committee of the principal men of the town who have come to tell you that the people do not wish to be measured." "Ah," said I, "so you are a committee, are you, come to tell me that you do not wish to be measured?" "Yes." Waiting a moment, I turned to the officials and asked, "And which one particularly does not wish to be measured of this committee?" Immediately, a most conservative-looking individual was pointed out. Addressing him, I said, "And so you do not wish to be measured?" "No sir," said he, "I will not be measured." "Very good," said I. "What is your name?" He told us. I marked it down upon my blank, and wrote out the description of his person. Then, seizing my measuring rod, I said to him quite sharply, "Well, well! Take off your hat and sandals. We must lose no time!" And before he really realized what we were doing, I had taken his measurements. Having finished with him, I turned again to the presidente. "And what other member of the committee particularly objects to being measured?" As I spoke, another man was indicated. Turning to him, I said, "Let us lose no time. Take off your hat and sandals while I measure you." In an instant the thing was done. The operation was carried through. Before I had finished with the second case, the others began to smile and snicker, and when I was ready for my third subject I simply asked, "Who next?" and they came one after another without complaint. Having measured all the members of the committee, I soberly addressed them. "Now, if there is any harm in this that I have done, you are all as badly off as can be. If I were you, I would try to get as many other people in the same position as I could; go out and bring in others." Before noon the work was done, and we were ready to go on to Juquila.
We rested, however, the balance of the day, and spent a second night at Ayutla. The day had been given to drinking, throughout the town. It will be remembered that the village proper lies on a terrace, upon a slope above the town-house. As we sat before the house, in the afternoon and evening, we heard from time to time yells and cries above. Some policemen, who were standing up there to keep order, would then appear upon the edge of the slope, and, waving their hands, would loudly cry for help; then the policemen from the town-house would run to their assistance, and in a little time the party would return, dragging one or more victims to the jail. This operation continued from early in the afternoon until late at night; fully fifteen or twenty persons were brought down from the village to the jail during that time.
We had hoped to find the valley of clouds, and the great cloud cataract, on the road to Juquila, but were doomed to disappointment. When we stood upon the summit, looking down into what before had been the sea of mist, the whole place was clear, and everything, to the very bottom of the valley, was visible. The further journey seemed more tedious than before, and the latter part of the road seemed truly endless. There was not a breath of air; the sun poured its hot rays down mercilessly. Long before we reached Juquila I felt, for the first time in Mexico, that I was suffering from fever. After seven and a half hours on the road, we reached the town at 1:30 in the afternoon, and went at once to the town-house, where we were well received, and arrangements were made for our comfort. When they saw that I was suffering, they brought out hammocks, of which I made no use. Making myself a bed of blankets upon the floor, I lay down in my misery and covered myself from the world, a blanket over my head. After some hours, I felt that we were losing time, and that we must, at least, make arrangements for the work of the following day. It was now dusk. I sent for the officials, and when they appeared, told them that, notwithstanding my suffering, I could not lose time, and that early in the morning they must bring persons for measurement. There was a good deal of discussion over the matter. The officials were dissatisfied that my order was not signed by the jefe of their district and dated from San Carlos. They suggested that we send a messenger to San Carlos to inquire whether the order was all right. I replied that four days would be consumed in going and coming; that time was precious, and that it was impossible for us to wait. Seeing that they were likely to refuse to do what I wished, I made a little speech, in which I told them they had better do what I asked, and that promptly. No one so far had recognized me as having been there before. I told them that they had never had better friend that I; that this was not the first time I had visited Juquila; that when I came before I had had difficulty; that my companion, presenting an order from the governor, had been badly received by their presidente, who tried to do him violence; that if I had reported this incident, they knew well what would have happened; that, however, being their good friend, I had never reported it. Having jogged their memory regarding the past, I suggested to them that a report of the previous occurrence, with their present disregard of orders, might be serious. I told them that they knew what I desired; that they might at once inform me whether it would be done or not; if they decided in the negative, the secretario and my mozo must start at once on foot to Oaxaca, carrying my complaint to the governor; that, as for me, having started them upon their journey, I should leave early the following morning going to some town where the people knew what obedience to the law meant. They at once promised that no time should be lost, and that, the following morning, I should have the subjects for whom I asked, viz., thirty-five men and twenty-five women. Nor was it simply promises; having told them that I would begin early in the morning whether I were well or ill, and that I wanted no delay, we found our thirty-five men waiting, at seven o'clock.
THE LAND OF THE MIXES
At Juquila the system of public crying from the plaza is fully developed. The town lies in a valley, and most of the houses are on slopes surrounding the little plain or terrace upon which the plaza is situated on which the government house is built. When aid was needed by the town authorities, whether zacate for our horses, food for ourselves, objects for inspection, or what not, one of the officers, whose business it seemed to be, stepped out upon the plaza, and, raising his voice would cry out what was needed by the authorities. Whoever had the things desired, coming out before their houses, would cry back the amount, description and variety of the articles they could supply. This we found to be the constant practice.
Notwithstanding the clearness of the preceding day, our day of working was cold, damp, and foggy. The sea of cloud and cataract of mists must have been in full operation. Where we were, a heavy wind was blowing and, before night, rain falling. We had not thought of the possibility of heavy storms or damaged roads at this time of the year, but, before night came, the people of the village expressed surprise that we should talk of leaving the next morning. They assured us that at Quezaltepec and Ixcuintepec it was surely raining heavily, and that the roads would be wet, slippery and impassable. Long before we went to bed, a gale was blowing and we felt doubts regarding further progress. In the morning it was still wet and chilly; all told of terrible roads and risks in proceeding; we delayed. Finally, we decided to press on at least to Ocotopec. We had tried to send the mozos forward with our baggage, but it was plain they would not move until we did. Finally, somewhat after nine, we started. It was still heavy and chilly; we found the road much better than we feared; at some points it was slippery, but not for long distances. Until we were on the final descent to Ocotopec we were sheltered from the cold wind. To be sure, here and there, where the road passed little funnel openings along the crest, we felt fully the cold wind loaded with mist.
We noticed, what on the other trip escaped my attention, the profound difference in vegetation between the two sides of the hill upon the crest of which we were travelling. The one slope, cold and damp, was densely forested with trees, loaded with air-plants and orchids. The other slope, warmer and drier, was far less heavily grown, and in large part, with pines. Among the plants noticed by the roadside was a species of pinguicula which was very common on damp clay-cuttings. Its leaves form a close, flat rosette upon the ground, from which a slender stalk rises, with a a single crimson flower. When we reached the final descent to the town, we caught the full force of the cold, mist-laden wind, which struck our faces and made us shiver. Yet it was on this very slope, so frequently cold and wet, that the oaks, covered with air-plants and blooming orchids, were at their finest. Ferns in astonishing variety, from the most delicate, through giant herbaceous forms, to magnificent tree-ferns; lycopods of several species, and selaginellas, in tufts, covered the slopes; and great banks of begonias, in fine bloom, showed themselves. Before we reached the village we were forced to dismount, on account of the slippery condition of the road, and entered town on foot.
In our other journey Ocotopec made no impression on us. It is really one of the most picturesque and interesting of the Mixe towns. It is built upon a slope, which is cut and built into a series of little terraced gardens; clusters or groups of houses stand on the terraces. The houses are rectangular, built of adobe brick and heavy thatch, with a thick comb of thatch riding the ridge. Unlike most Mixe churches, the church at Ocotopec is entire, and in good condition. It is built of stone. The town is purely Indian, and the type is the best we had seen. Had there been light for photographing, we should have stopped there and done our work, instead of passing on to Ixcuintepec. As it was, we spent the night, and were well treated. Leaving early in the morning, we hurried to Quezaltepec for dinner, the road being better than we had anticipated. The town is prettily distributed upon a curved crest; the houses are neat, built of adobe or of poles daubed with mud. Much fruit is grown here, and coffee is an important crop. In almost every yard mats were spread out, on which coffee was drying, or being sorted by people squatting on the ground. Considerable cotton is woven at this point.
Leaving at 3:40, the evening ride through the forest was magnificent. The flora was such as we have before described. As we rode through the higher forests, we constantly heard birds, notable among which were the clarÃns, with their fine clear notes. It was dark before we reached Camotlan. Nowhere had we been better treated. We were shown at once into a clean room, and were soon surrounded by bustle and preparation for our comfort. There are but 143 inhabitants, of whom six—four men and two women—have goitres. We had been previously informed that the whole town was goitrous. There were three deaf-mutes, but no idiots, in the town. Inquiring for books printed in the Mixe tongue, we were informed that the choir-master had one. On expressing my desire to see it, they sent to bring him. We were astonished at his appearance. The messengers who brought him carried him in their arms, and set him down upon the floor, when we saw that he had been born without legs, and with sadly deformed arms and hands. Yet, when once placed upon the floor, he moved about easily, and had a cheery face and sunny temper. He was delighted to show us his book and took the greatest pride in reading from it. It is truly remarkable that he can do this. The book was written in the dialect of Juquila of more than 170 years ago. The dialect of Juquila was no doubt then different from that of Camotlan, and during the 170 years there have been great changes, even in that town itself. As I watched the man read from his book, I noticed that he pronounced parts of words differently from the way in which they were spelled; how he had worked out for himself, unaided, the proper meaning and purport of the words was a mystery. I had intended to purchase the book, but found him so attached to it that I gave up the plan. Had he been a normal man, I should have insisted; but then, if he had been a normal man, he would not have had the book nor known how to read it.
From Camotlan we rode steadily for five hours to reach Ixcuintepec. There were considerable stretches of slippery road to be passed. The two gorge rides, the bridges of vines, and the houses along the way, were beautiful as ever, but the magnificent mountain forests were left entirely behind us. The old church at Ixcuintepec is visible on the high crest for a considerable distance. As we made the final climb, the boys noticed in the trees structures one and a half feet or two feet in diameter, and somewhat dome-shaped. I should have taken them for wasps' nests, but the party insisted that they saw parrots come out of them, and that no doubt young parrots were in the nests. Immediately there was great excitement, for Manuel had all along wanted to capture a parrot to take home with him. The party stopped, and stones were thrown to drive out the birds, but with no result. Finally Mariano climbed the tree, creeping out along the branches almost to the nest; just at that moment an unusually well-aimed stone struck the nest, but instead of parrots, out streamed a great cloud of wasps, which flew straight towards the mozo, >who lost no time in getting down from his precarious position.
We found Ixcuintepec almost deserted; hardly any of the town officials were there. Almost everyone was off, working in the coffee fincas. We quickly saw that we had made a great mistake in waiting for our remaining subjects until this town. Not only were men conspicuous by their absence, but the women were extremely hostile. They objected to our photographing their houses or themselves. They drove the messenger whom I had sent to measure a house, for the purpose of making a miniature reproduction, off the premises with clubs. The mozos, who had accompanied us thus far, had no intention of going farther, and the problem of getting carriers—which had troubled us ever since we had left Mitla—assumed serious proportions. It was with great difficulty and much bluster that we secured the food we needed and the mozos. When the mozos came, three out of the four whom it was necessary for us to employ, were mere boys, the heartiest and best of whom was scarcely ten years old. In vain we declared that it was impossible for such little fellows to carry the burdens that needed transportation. It was plain that they were our only resource. Starting the three boys upon a short cut to San Miguel, the oldest mozo and ourselves went by another road to Coatlan. It was fortunate for us that the school-teacher at this town was interested in our work. We took possession of the schoolhouse, showed our orders to the officials, and, after much difficulty, obtained our wishes. The town was almost as deserted as had been Ixcuintepec, but after infinite difficulty, we succeeded in getting sufficient subjects to complete our work.
VIEW IN QUEZALTEPEC
We had thought ourselves unfortunate at Ixcuintepec and Coatlan; the worst lay before us. We found San Miguel deserted. Our three mozos who had been paid, and ordered to go simply to that village, and there to leave our things, had left before we arrived. The man who had come with us, we had dismissed before we realized conditions. The coffee had been gathered for the season; the chief man of the place was in the mountains; there was no town government; neither prayers, threats, nor bribes produced food for ourselves and our horses; two or three men around the place would not be hired as mozos. We finally were forced to leave our busts, plaster, photographic outfit and plates on a bench under an open shed, and go on alone to Santiago Guevea. It was a bitter disappointment, because our previous experience at San Miguel had been so pleasant and interesting.
When we left Coatlan that morning, it had been through clouds and drizzling rain. When we passed through San Miguel, conditions were but little better. From there, we went through a gorge road, everywhere passing little plantations of coffee, bananas, and tobacco. Finally, we began our last mountain or forest climb. The wind with the rain became colder and more penetrating. At the summit, we found a typical norther raging, and at points our animals and ourselves were almost blown from the crest. In good weather the road is long, but through this it was dreadful. Few towns compare in beauty of location, and appearance from a distance, with Santiago Guevea. It was nearly five when we drew up in front of the crowded town-house. It will be remembered that this town is Zapotec, Coatlan being the last Mixe town. The school-teacher interested himself in our welfare, securing for us a real sleeping-room with cots, putting our horses into the corridor of the schoolhouse, and arranging for our meals. Chocolate and bread were at once furnished, and at eight o'clock a good supper was sent to our room. In the plaza outside, the wind was blowing a hurricane and the cold cut like a knife; but the house in which we slept was tight and warm. In the morning, we found the wild weather still continuing. It had been out of the question to send mozos to San Miguel the night before, and it seemed wicked to start them out in such a storm of wind, fog, rain and cold. Still, our time was precious, and we ordered men sent to the place where our stuff had been left, to fetch it; meanwhile, we decided to wait until they should appear. Our animals had had nothing to eat the previous day, except a little corn we had brought with us from Coatlan. We therefore ordered zacate brought for them. The night before, I had inquired regarding the acquaintances we had made at San Miguel in our previous trip. I learned that the man had died less than a month before, but that the widow, the four boys and the little girl, having finished their work at the coffee finca at San Miguel, were in town. Accordingly we called at the house. The woman immediately recognized me, and asked after Don Ernesto. The boys were sleeping, bedded on piles of coffee, but were routed from their slumber to greet us. At first, none of them remembered me, but the little girl did, and soon Castolo also. Their house was comfortable, and piles of corn, coffee, and bananas were stacked up in the place. They invited us to stop with them, but we were already well housed by the authorities. As we left, the woman went to the corner, and, from a pile of similar objects, took two things neatly wrapped in corn-husks. On opening them, we found that they were eggs, which are frequently wrapped in this way for storage, in all the indian towns. Although we had ordered food for the horses, at seven o'clock it had not appeared. We called at the town-house several times, but still no zacate. Our dinner came, and the afternoon passed, but still no fodder for the horses was produced, and the poor animals had eaten nothing, practically, for two whole days, although subjected to hard work and the pelting storm. We anxiously watched for the coming of the mozos with our equipment. The storm, though still raging, was abating, and we could see well down the road. When, at half past three in the afternoon, there was no sign of either men or fodder, we called the town authorities to account. We told them that we would wait no longer in a town where our animals could only starve; that they must forward our boxes, plaster and busts promptly to Tehauntepec; that we should hold them responsible for loss or delay, and that all should be delivered at the office of the jefe. Paying no attention to their entreaties that we should wait a little longer for the fodder, which they promised, as they had so many times before, would come soon, we saddled our animals, and at 4:20 left the town. Just as we started, little Castolo appeared with two bunches of zacate sent by his mother, as a present to Don Federico.
Certainly, there must be a new and better road from Guevea to Santa Maria than the one we traversed in our other journey, and which again, following from memory, we used. It was a fearful trail, neglected and ruined, over slippery rock and rough, sharp-splintered stone. Still we pressed on rapidly, making even better time than we had been assured at the town that we might expect to make. Never were we more happy than in reaching Santa Maria, lovely in the moonlight, with its great church, fine municipal-house, cocoa-nut trees and thatched huts. Here was no sign either of the norther or the rain. The next day's journey was over the hot dusty road with glimpses now and then of the distant Pacific and Tlacotopec for destination. The following morning we pressed on toward Tehuantepec, through the dust and heat, reaching the city at noonday. To our great surprise, we found the mozos, with the plaster, the busts, and the boxes of plates, waiting for us since four o'clock in the morning.