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

by Anne Cary Maudslay; Alfred Percival Maudslay

ON THE PINE RIDGE.

I spent the morning of the 27th taking bearings and examining the surrounding country through a field-glass. In the afternoon we set out for the river which ran below us, scrambling down the hillside, and cutting our way through patches of forest and camalote. The river proved to be about fifty yards wide, and the water slowly flowed through a succession of long pools with shallow rapids between them. It was late when we made our camp on the edge of the Pine Ridge, a few hundred yards from the stream, and a party of men was at once sent off to cut a path down to the water and bring back a supply for the night. As the men left the thicket on their return to camp, one of them, wearied with the work of cutting his way through the camalote which grew thick by the river’s edge, threw his lighted torch into the reeds and within a few moments the thicket was a mass of crackling flames. Luckily for us the wind was in our favour and the fire was carried swiftly along the river-bank to the westward. I turned into my cot and slept soundly until about 4 A.M., when I woke to find that the wind had changed and that the fire was rapidly coming down upon us. The camalote immediately to windward of us had already been burnt up, but the thin wiry grass which covered the Pine Ridge and grew to the height of one’s knees was as dry as tinder, and we could see in the distance some of the pine-trees catching fire and blazing up as the long line of flames swept past them. We were soon all of us at work firing the grass just around the camp and beating it out again with green boughs torn from the trees, until we had burnt a broad band round the camp, so that no fire could reach us. It was a hot job and we all worked like niggers, and must have looked nearly as black, from the smoke and ashes, before we felt at all secure. Then as the burning edge of the grass was lost to sight in a dip of the ground, and as the dawn had not yet come, I turned into my cot again and woke later to find the sun shining and to hear that the wind had again shifted just before the fire reached us, so that the long line of flame was being carried away to the north.

During the next few days we passed the time in a way that a school-boy fresh from Robinson Crusoe would have considered almost perfect, for we attempted to make a raft and float our baggage down the stream, whilst the mozos unencumbered with loads should cut their way through the thickets that lined the banks. However, it was not a success, as the following extracts from my scrappy journal will show:—“29th April. The Pine Ridge is still burning to the N.E. of us. Have seen many tracks of tapir and deer, but cannot catch sight of the animals themselves. Started with the raft in the afternoon. Hard work hauling it over a shallow rapid before putting the luggage on board. Rapids rather close together. At the last rapid the raft caught on a snag and the food-box went overboard: recovered with difficulty; biscuits all sodden.—30th April. Lashed more cross pieces to the raft, and then gave each mozo a small load to carry so as to lighten the cargo, but after a hard day’s work only succeeded in rafting about a mile and a half, and had to unload the raft once in that short distance. Very hard work in the shallow rapids: determined to abandon the raft. Shot many large iguanas for the men to eat, and shot two large alligators, but could not get them.”

We found an alligator’s nest on a small island in the river and the mozos had a glorious supper off the thirty eggs we took out of it. The nest consisted of a great pile of dry sticks, leaves, grass, and sand, which the animal had scraped together to cover up the eggs, leaving the ground swept bare for some yards around. Each egg had apparently been covered up as soon as it was laid, and the last egg we took out of the nest was buried an arm’s length from the top of the pile. We again came across the owner of the despoiled nest the next day, and I got a shot at her; but although two rifle-bullets seemed to be well placed she managed to get to the water and we had an exciting chase after her, but in her dying struggles she sank into the water too deep for us to fathom with our punting-poles, and we saw her no more. On the bank of the river I found some traces of an ancient Indian settlement, raised terraces, and the foundation mounds of houses, but the houses themselves had disappeared and there were no monuments or sculptured stones to be seen.

As our provisions were running short we turned northwards again on the 1st of May. The fire, which had run for many miles over the Pine Ridge, had cleared off the high grass and made the walking easier; but we had to be careful to avoid treading on the smouldering pine-logs which here and there strewed the ground, and sometimes to give a wide berth to a half-burnt tree which was likely to come down with a crash at the first gust of wind. By the afternoon of the 4th of May we were back again at the Cayo, and there I found Carlos Lopez and his party awaiting our arrival, with a doleful story to tell me of their expedition to Tikál. They had reached Tikál safely, but had met with no water to drink during the latter part of their journey, and when they arrived at the small lagoon near the ruins which had afforded us a supply during our former visits, it was only to find that it was completely dried up. There was nothing to do but to make the best of their way back again; and their sufferings must have been severe, as for three whole days they had nothing to drink but the driblets from the water lianes which they could find along their track.

I paid off the mozos who had been to Tikál as soon as I reached the Cayo, and that same evening they set off on their long journey home. The next morning I told the remaining mozos, those who had been with me in the Pine Ridge, to go to Benque Viejo, only about four leagues distant, and bring back some baggage which we had left there, and that on their return in the evening they should receive their wages and be free to start for their homes. A considerable sum of money was owing to them, for in addition to their back wages, by an agreement which I had made with them, they were to receive double pay for the journey into the Pine Ridge and the conveyance of the baggage from Benque Viejo. However, they had seen their companions set off for Cajabon the night before, and that sudden home-sickness to which they are subject came over them, so they told me that they must start for their homes at once. No verbal remonstrance was of any avail, so I arranged each man’s wages in a little pile and said that as soon as his load had been brought to the house—which could easily be done before night—he might take his pay and go; otherwise he would forfeit his wages, as he had not fulfilled his contract. The men made little or no reply, but filed sullenly out of the room and loafed about round the house until the afternoon; then each man made a little bundle of his rug, hammock, and other belongings and started off for home, leaving his hard-earned wages behind him.

I was really in a very awkward fix, for arrangements had been made to send all my baggage from the Cayo to Belize by water, but how to get it from Benque Viejo to the Cayo was a question difficult to answer; there were no other cargadores in the neighbourhood and no mules available, and even if mules had been forthcoming the loads would have needed careful repacking before they could have been fastened on pack-saddles. However, through the kind offices of Mr. Milson, who was untiring in his efforts to help me, I did succeed in getting hold of some of the more important packages before starting for Belize, and made arrangements for the disposition of the remainder.

But to return to the mozos. I had no intention of letting them go unpaid, and although hoping to the last that they might change their minds I had taken the precaution of posting a look-out on the road beyond the edge of the village, and there they were stopped and brought back to me, and each man was told to take the pile of dollars set out for him on the table. I don’t think there had been any misapprehension on their part; the terms of the agreement had been fully explained to them and had received their assent before we started for the Pine Ridge, and they never even suggested that an injustice was being done to them; it was merely the sudden longing for home which had come over them on seeing their companions set out on the previous night which had led them to risk the forfeit of two months’ wages rather than endure a day’s delay.

On the 8th May I left the Cayo in a “pit-pan,” a craft like an elongated Thames punt, propelled by six paddlers, who sit right in the square bow to ply their paddles, and in four days we arrived in Belize. In 1882 I made the journey from the Cayo to Belize by land, a journey which presents no difficulty to the traveller; but as in those days the path was not too clearly defined, I engaged a local guide, my other companions being Gorgonio and two Coban Indian carriers. One of our two mules broke down during the first day’s march, and as we had only a short time in which to accomplish the journey we usually walked on until midnight and then rolling our rugs round us lay down in the path for a few hours’ sleep. Both Gorgonio and I were in splendid condition and felt little fatigue, and had our guide known the way we should have finished the journey with time to spare, but he was always leading us astray. On the last day, at nine o’clock in the morning, we were lost in a mangrove-swamp within a few miles of the town of Belize, hunting for the long trestle-bridge by which alone the swamp can be crossed, and conscious that the steamer for New Orleans would leave Belize that afternoon at three o’clock punctually. By good luck we at last stumbled on the bridge, and mounting the sound mule I made the best of my way to Government House. My old friend, Sir Frederick Barlee, whom I had visited on my way to Guatemala, had had faith in my determination to turn up in time for the steamer, and with a hearty welcome I found a refreshing bath and a good luncheon awaiting me, and a boat ready to take me off to the vessel. Police orderlies were sent off at once to help Gorgonio and the carriers, who luckily came in sight just as the steamer was blowing her whistle, and I carried off my luggage with me in triumph, but it was a close shave.