Rambles by Land and Water; or, Notes of Travel in Cuba and Mexico

by Benjamin Moore Norman

AN INDIAN MAN AND WOMAN.

Ordinarily, the men wear trousers,—sometimes shirts of cotton,—but, in many parts of the country, owing to the prohibition of certain qualities and textures, this luxury is fast disappearing, and the more primitive dress of skins is taking its place. The rebosa, a narrow scarf, thrown over the head and shoulders, is indispensable to females. No matter what constitutes the other portion of their covering, even though, as is oftentimes the case, their wardrobe is so scanty as scarcely to cover their limbs, yet this is considered paramount. On one occasion, I remember to have seen a female, with a rebosa upon her head, which cost no less than twenty-five dollars, whilst her body was miserably covered with a sort of under garment, or petticoat, such as few of our common street beggars would be willing to wear.

These people are of the usual color and stature of the Mexican Indians, but not so finely formed as the majority of them are,—nor have they that good expression, so prominent among the people of the southern portions of Mexico. They seem, moreover, to be entirely destitute of that spirit of religion, which their manifest appreciation of some religious rites, would naturally lead us to expect. Altogether, they are the most unfavorable specimen of the natives that have fallen under my observation.

Before night-fall of the second day of our voyage, we reached the mouth of the Topila Creek, a distance of twenty miles from the brick-yard. Continuing our course up that stream about three miles, we came to a rancho, or cattle-farm, belong to a Mr. Coss, of Tampico, brother of the celebrated general of Texan memory. Before I left Tampico, this gentleman gave me a letter to his major-domo, a half-breed, who received us with great attention. The letter being very explicit on the subject of accommodation, I could not but fare well in this respect,—and it may yet, perhaps, be gathered from the sequel, that I was treated more like a prince than a common traveller.

Arriving at the place, we were ushered into a bamboo house, with mud walls, and floors of the same primitive material. This house contained no less than two apartments. One of these, sustained the distinguished appellation of "the lady's room"—and it was now my privilege to become its sole occupant. In one corner of the room, stood a bedstead, without bed or bedding; and a dressing-table, decorated with sundry condemned combs, oil-bottles, scissors and patches, occupied another; whilst a demijohn of aguardiente, and other interesting ornaments, such as saddles, guns, and swords, filled up the picture. However, as I intended to make this place my head-quarters, while exploring the hills and river banks in the neighborhood, I at once resolved to be satisfied with "the lady's room," and such other good things as the place afforded. Accordingly, at an early hour, I spread out my blanket, and retired for the night;—"deep into the darkness peering—long I lay there, fondly dreaming," as before observed, that I was "alone in my glory."

But, alas! the soft reflections of dreamy hours were disturbed by an unexpected visit from a goodly number of well-disciplined, noxious little animals, who introduced themselves to me in a most significant, yet unceremonious manner. No remarks being made respecting the object of their visit, I was left to infer, that the kindness of the major-domo had moved him to organize a new company of lancers, for my especial benefit. After many unsuccessful attempts to induce this unsolicited force to withdraw, my attention was politely called to another quarter. Having been strongly impressed, I was now fully convinced, of the immediate presence of sundry young pigeons, many of whom, protected by their maternal parents, were perched in the crevices of the wall over my head. These, together with the game fowls, setting under my bed, contributed much to destroy that confidence which, until now had not been disturbed, that I had actually secured the undivided occupancy of that unique apartment. Of course, it was unnecessary to arouse me in the morning.

Before sunrise, I found myself well equipped for the explorations of the day. The mules being in readiness, I started in company with a guide, and rode five miles to another rancho, where, as I was informed, there lived an Indian upwards of a hundred years of age. I found him, to my surprise, a hale and sturdy man—though he could give me no intelligence respecting the objects of my research. Indeed, so suspicious are these people of the designs of strangers, that it was with the utmost difficulty I could convince him, as well as others, that my only motive in visiting the country, was to acquaint myself with the ancient places of their forefathers; not, as they supposed, to roam in quest of gold and silver mines.

Supposing that, in a man so much beyond the ordinary limit of human life, whose memory might extend back almost one-third of the way to the era of the Spanish conquest, and who was now in the full possession of his faculties, I had found a rare and enviable opportunity to pry into the mysteries of the past, and learn something of the history of the remarkable people, who once occupied this whole region, and filled it with monuments of their genius, taste, and power;—I employed all my ingenuity to draw out of him whatever he knew. But it was pumping at an exhausted well. Of facts, of history, in any form, he had nothing to tell. He seemed not to have a thought that there was anything to be told, except one vague unsatisfactory tradition, the only one existing among the inhabitants in all this region, that once on a time—they have no conception when, whether a hundred or a thousand years ago—"giants came from the North, as was prophesied by the gods, killed and destroyed the people, and continued on to the South." This tradition, bearing a strong analogy to one which prevails among nearly all the aboriginal tribes of the Mississippi Valley, and the wilds of the west, seems to be the only connecting link between the present generation, and that mysteriously interesting blank—the exterminated obliterated Past.

In the vicinity of this rancho, in an easterly direction from it, I found, in several considerable mounds, the first traces of ancient art that had greeted my eyes. One of these mounds was more than twenty-five feet in height, and of a circular form. At its sides, a number of layers of small, flat, well-hewn stones were still to be seen. Scattered about, in its immediate neighborhood, were also many others of a larger size, and of different forms. These had apparently once been used for the sides of door-ways and lintels. They were perfectly plain, without any mark or sign of ornament.

Upon this spot once stood one of those ancient Indian towns, the memorials of whose departed greatness and glory are so often met with, in every part of this interesting country. The ruins in this place are ruins indeed, so dilapidated as not to afford, at the present time, the remotest clue to the manners and customs of the builders, or the degree of civilization to which they may have attained. I traversed the whole ground, as well as the rank vegetation, and wild animals would permit, and found my way back to the Topila at dark,—congratulating myself on having been able to accomplish so much, in the way of exploration, with no other protection than the untanned skin of an American, while that of a rhinoceros seemed absolutely necessary to the undertaking; for both the animal and vegetable kingdoms appeared to be combined against the intrusion of man.