A Glimpse at Guatemala / And Some Notes on the Ancient Monuments of Central America

by Anne Cary Maudslay; Alfred Percival Maudslay

It rained nearly all night and we felt the cold much more severely than I could have imagined, for the thermometer did not go below 60°. Next day I took Carlos and some of the other mozos with me to clear and examine the “cimientos” we had found the evening before, whilst Gorgonio and Domingo and all the rest were employed on a further search for idols. The search was again fruitless, and, from something in his manner, I began to think that Domingo was haunted by some superstition and was unwilling to take us to the idols even if he knew where they stood. The “cimientos” did not prove to be very interesting. Some of the stones used in the principal foundation-mound were large, but they were poorly worked and had been merely flaked off from the quarry. The front of the mound was formed into three broad steps or terraces, but I could find no trace of walls or building on the flat top. A trench dug through the mound showed it to be made of rough pieces broken off the neighbouring limestone rock, and of small stones mixed with a few shreds of coarse pottery.

Towards evening I ascended a steep limestone hill about 400 feet high, rising a quarter of a mile to the west of the camp. Gorgonio had caught sight of it the day before and mozos had been sent up to clear the top. We had a splendid view from S.W. to N.W. across the great forest-covered plain of the Rio de la Pasion and its branches, and could distinctly see on the far horizon some clear-cut hills which we took to be the Nueve Cerros (bearing 119°-122°) on the Rio Chixoy. To the N.W. were the distant hillocks of Peten, and right across the N.N.E. a long range of abrupt hills, but all very far distant. We could not have chanced on a better point from which to get a view over the country, for we were standing on the last of the range of hills which projected into the plain from the direction in which we had been travelling.

Isolated black storm-clouds heavily charged with rain were passing over the country to the north of us, and just as I was putting away the prismatic compass, a heavy shower struck us and in a moment we were all drenched; we hastened to make the best of our way back to camp, the thinly clad mozos shivering with cold. Here bad news awaited us; the mozos who had been out with Carlos clearing the track were returning from work in single file, when one who had a load on his back put his foot out of the track into the low herbage at the side and trod upon a “tamagás,” which bit him in the foot. Luckily the snake was a small one, but the two little round blue-edged marks left by his poison-fangs were not to be mistaken, and the mozo’s foot and leg were already greatly swollen.

In the matter of a snake-bite, Indians are best left to their own devices; they almost always carry a supposed antidote with them or know where to look in the forest for some medicinal herb in the efficacy of which they have the firmest belief. In this case the remedy was a smooth seed like the kernel of a brazil-nut, called Cedron, which is excessively bitter and astringent and which comes, I believe, from Mexico. An infusion was made from the scrapings of this seed and given to the patient to drink, whilst the skin of the foot around the bite was scarified with a knife and a strong infusion of the seed was rubbed into it. It is not always on drugs alone that the inhabitants of the country rely for protection against death by snake-bite; during one of my earlier journeys, whilst travelling through the forest on the way to Peten, a Ladino came into camp who had been following on our tracks for two days. After he had rested and had some supper I told Gorgonio to find out what he wanted. He was rather mysterious in his replies; but at last it came out that he had heard that I was the fortunate possessor of a unicorn’s horn, and he wished me to sell him a piece of it. I was utterly mystified, for at that time I knew nothing of the virtue of unicorn’s horn, and my statement that I could not possess any, as no such thing existed, was not too well received, and evidently looked upon as a dodge to raise the price. Later in the evening I talked the matter over with my men, and learnt that unicorn’s horn was firmly believed in as a charm or protection against snake-bite. Next morning my visitor returned to the subject. He told me that he had long been looking out for a piece of horn, that he knew that I had some, and that he would pay me a good price for it. He added that only a few months before he had nearly succeeded in buying a piece from an old negro woman in Belize, but that at the very last she refused to part with it, as she had made up her mind to keep it for her son who was then at sea, but who would have need of it when he returned and went wood-cutting in the forest. Clearly nothing that I said to the man affected his belief in the charm, and he left me to ride home in a very ill-humour at his bad luck. This superstition cannot be of Indian origin, but must have come through European sailors, who thought there was virtue in a narwhal’s tooth. The snake-bitten mozo suffered greatly during the night, but by the next morning the swelling was somewhat reduced and the pain seemed to be lessened; however, all chance of our making a start for San Luis was out of the question, as the man could not put his foot to the ground.

All this time our mules had been without any proper food, as unluckily no Ramon trees could be found. The poor beasts had nibbled at all the green things around them, but there was nothing to satisfy their hunger. After making many experiments we found that the leaves of a certain palm were most to their liking, and with these they were liberally supplied. It had been raining during the night and the day was dull and cold, so I stayed in camp to write up my notes and compute some sextant observations, and sent off two parties of men to hunt through the forest for ruins. About five o’clock the men began to return and reported that they had met with no game and seen no ruins; before dark they were all in except Gorgonio, his brother José Domingo, and four mozos who had parted company with the others early in the afternoon. As the sun was setting I sent a mozo to fire shots from the limestone hill to the west of the camp in the hope of guiding their steps, and continued to fire occasional shots from the camp until an hour or two after dark, but no answer came to the signals. However, I knew that the men had matches and some biscuits with them, and that if they were lost for the night they were bound to strike the track when the sun rose to guide them. Before noon the next day they all turned up and owned that they had lost themselves, in spite of the compass which Gorgonio carried, and had wandered away further than they intended. They passed a cold and comfortless night in a cave, making their supper off a monkey which they had shot by the way. We had doubtless been feeling the effects of a late “norther” in the Gulf of Mexico, for during all our stay at Chichajác the weather was dull and chilly. In the evening two Indian hunters on their way to Cajabon came into camp; this was my opportunity, and I asked them if they would accept payment to see the injured mozo back to his home, for by this time he had so far recovered as to be able to put his foot to the ground. We soon came to terms; I then called the men together round the camp fire and asked the mozo if he felt well enough to return home, and as he answered “yes,” I then told him what arrangements had been made for him. “Now,” I added, “we must settle about your wages; you have received payment in advance for two months and have only done ten days’ work for it, the money must of course be returned to me.” The man made no objection, and one of his companions brought the little pile of dollars and placed them in front of me. Then, in my best manner, I made an oration, which Gorgonio translated into Quekchi. They might have already found out, I said, that Englishmen were not man-eaters, and that the particular Englishman whom they were serving was anxious to take every care of them, and pay well for their labour, and I held up my many other shining virtues to the light of that camp fire. This man, I said, has met with an accident whilst in my service, therefore in no way that I can help shall he suffer for it. Let him come forward and take up the money again—he is thus paid for two months in which to recover his health; and to this pile of dollars will I now add another pile, so that during the time of his feebleness he may pay some neighbour to work in his milpa. The man gathered up the extra dollars without a word and there was absolute silence in the circle. As this was not broken for some moments, I asked Gorgonio if anyone had anything to say. This was translated to them, and at last someone grumbled out, “If Pedro was fool enough to put his foot on a snake, of course we know that was not the doing of the Patron.” That was all the thanks I got, and perhaps it was all I deserved, for in truth I was only posing, and had a very shrewd idea that the man would be all right again in a week’s time; but I had a grumbling, discontented set of mozos with me and could not afford to miss a chance of showing them that I was ready to treat them liberally when an opportunity offered. However, time and fair treatment were already doing their work, and we were on much better terms than when we started and they had alluded to my probable liking for human flesh.

My chief difficulty now was with one of the mozos who had declared himself to be a “brujo,” or wizard; he told the others that he could do anything he pleased with me, and he was of course the leader in all the grumblings and insubordination. However, I knew that I was getting on well when I found that I could raise a laugh at the “brujo’s” expense, and I never missed an opportunity of chaffing him about his mysterious powers, and offered to drink any potion he might prepare for me, provided he drank half of it himself.

On the 3rd of March we left the injured man in charge of the hunters, and were all delighted to get out of our damp and gloomy camp and to make a start again. After five days of slow travelling through the forest, crossing the numerous streamlets which go to make up the Santa Isabel or Cancuén branch of the Rio de la Pasion and the muddy intervals between them, we arrived at the deserted village of San Luis, where the horse and mules were at last able to find food more to their liking, as the clearing round the houses afforded some scanty pasture.

Nearly all the houses in the village were empty and fast falling into decay. About two years before my visit the inhabitants of San Luis, worried and wearied by the constant interference of the Government in their concerns, and especially resenting the extra tax which was levied in support of President Rufino Barrios’s pet scheme of a railway from the capital to the Atlantic coast, determined to abandon their homes and seek shelter in British territory. In all about one hundred families fled across the border and founded the village of San Antonio between the frontier and Punta Gorda. The Colonial Government did not interfere with them and they lived on in taxless peace; but even so their happiness was not complete, for had they not left the sacred images of the saints behind them, and had not their own chosen Alcalde, fearing the long arm of the President, refused to accompany them? The loss was intolerable and a council was called to discuss the matter, when it was settled to make an attempt to recover their saints and their Alcalde whatever the risks might be. A number of the younger men then recrossed the frontier, seized the church bells and the images of the saints, and called to their Alcalde to follow them; but he, wise man, knew the value of forms, and refused to leave unless they would first bind him with cords. This was soon done, and then conscience being satisfied he cheerfully marched off to join his family on the other side of the frontier.

The fate of the bells of San Luis was very nearly becoming an international question, but, fortunately for the peace of the world, after a few despatches had passed between the Governments interested, the matter was allowed to drop.