Sometimes they carry off children for purposes of their own. When Dr. Berendt was exploring the east coast of Yucatan he was told of such an occurrence on the Island of San Pedro, north of Belize. A little boy of four years wandered to some cacao bushes not more than fifty yards from the house, and there all trace of him was lost. There was no sign of wolf or tiger, no footprint of kidnapper. They sought him the whole day in vain, and then gave up the search, for they knew what had happened—the Balam had taken him!
The Balams have also the reputation of inculcating a respect for the proprieties of life. Zetina tells this story which he heard among his native friends: One day an Indian and his wife went to their corn-patch to gather ears. The man left the field to get some water, and his wife threw off the gown she wore lest it should be torn, and was naked. Suddenly she heard some one call to her in a loud voice, Pixe avito, xnoh cizin, which Zetina translates literally into Spanish, Tapa ta culo, gran diablo! At the same time she received two smart blows with a cane. She turned and beheld a tall man with a long beard, and a gown which reached to his feet. This was the Balam. He gave her two more smart blows on the part of the person to which he had referred, and then disappeared; but the marks of the four blows remained as long as she lived.
It is vain to attempt to persuade the Indian that such notions are false and cannot be facts. He will not try to reason with you. He contents himself with a patient gesture and the despairing exclamation, Bix ma hahal? “How can it be otherwise than true?” (Bix, how, ma, not, hahal, true.)
These Balams are in fact the gods of the cardinal points and of the winds and rains which proceed from them, and are thus a survival of some of the central figures of the ancient mythology. The wind still holds its pre-eminence as a supernatural occurrence in the native mind. One day Dr. Berendt was traveling with some natives through the forests when the sound of a tropical tornado was heard approaching with its formidable roar through the trees. In awe-struck accents one of his guides said, “He catal nohoch yikal nohoch tat: Here comes the mighty wind of the Great Father.” But it is only in an unguarded moment that in the presence of a white man the Indian betrays his beliefs, and no questioning could elicit further information. A hint is supplied by Señor Zetina. He mentions that the whistling of the wind is called, or attributed to, tat acmo, words which mean Father Strong-bird. This suggests many analogies from the mythologies of other races; for the notion of the primeval bird, at once lord of the winds and father of the race, is found in numerous American tribes, and is distinctly contained in the metaphors of the first chapter of Genesis.
The balam, as I have said, is esteemed a kindly and protective being; he is affectionately referred to as yum balam, Father Balam. He is said to have a human form, that of an old man with a long beard and ample flowing robes. But there are other gigantic spectres of terrible aspect and truculent humor. One of these is so tall that a man cannot reach his knees. He stalks into the towns at midnight, and planting his feet like a huge Colossus, one on each side of the roadway, he seizes some incautious passer-by and breaks his legs with his teeth, or conquers him with a sudden faintness. The name of this terror of late walkers is Giant Grab, Ua ua pach.
Another is the Che Vinic, the Man of the Woods, called by the Spanish population the Salonge. He is a huge fellow without bones or joints. For that reason if he lies down he cannot rise without extreme difficulty; hence he sleeps leaning against a tree. His feet are reversed, the heels in front, the toes behind. He is larger and stronger than a bull, and his color is red. In his long arms he carries a stick the size of a tree-trunk. He is on the watch for those who stray through the woods, and, if he can, will seize and devour them. But a ready-witted man has always a means of escape. All he has to do is to pluck a green branch from a tree, and waving it before him, begin a lively dance. This invariably throws the Wood Man into convulsions of mirth. He laughs and laughs until he falls to the ground, and once down, having no joints, he cannot rise, and the hunter can proceed leisurely on his journey. It is singular, says Dr. Berendt, how widely distributed is the belief in this strange fancy. It recurs in precisely the same form in Yucatan, in Peten, in Tabasco, around Palenque, etc.
Another ugly customer is the Culcalkin. This word means “the priest without a neck,” and the hobgoblin so named is described as a being with head cut off even with the shoulders, who wanders around the villages at night, frightening men and children.
In contrast to the giants are the dwarfs and imps which are ready in their malicious ways to sour the pleasures of life. The most common of these are the h’lox, or more fully, h’loxkatob, which means “the strong clay images.”[[198]] They are, indeed, believed to be the actual idols and figures in clay which are found about the old temples and tombs, and hence an Indian breaks these in pieces whenever he finds them, to the great detriment of archæological research. They only appear after sunset, and then in the shape of a child of three or four years, or sometimes not over a span in height, naked except wearing a large hat. They are swift of foot, and can run backwards as fast as forwards. Among other pranks, they throw stones at the dogs and cause them to howl. Their touch produces sickness, especially chills and fever. It is best, therefore, not to attempt to catch them.
Of similar malevolent disposition is the Chan Pal, Little Boy, who lurks in the woods and is alleged to bring the small-pox into the villages.
Others are merely teasing in character, and not positively harmful. Thus there is the X bolon thoroch who lives in the house with the family, and repeats at night the various sounds of domestic labor which have been made during the day. The word thoroch is applied to the sound caused by the native spindle revolving in its shaft; bolon is “nine,” a number used to express the superlative degree in certain phrases; while the initial X shows that the imp is of the feminine gender. The name therefore signifies “the female imp who magnifies the sound of the spindle.” Other such household imps are the Bokol h’otoch, Stir-the-House, who creeps under the floors and makes a noise like beating a cake to scare the inmates; the Yancopek, Pitcher-Imp, who crawls into jars and jugs; and the Way cot, Witch-bird, who lurks on or behind walls and drops stones on passers by.