Whilst I was here, I witnessed a curious incident: one day a woman came to the cura demanding justice against her son, who had been wanting in respect to her. The son, a big, tall fellow of five-and-twenty, was with her; both were the worse for drink. The priest remonstrated with the mother, but she was obdurate; the law allowed her twelve strokes, and twelve strokes she would have. “Never mind, Señor Padre, I know I don’t deserve them, but she is my mother, and since it pleases her, I may well consent to it.” He got his twelve strokes “pro formâ,” after which they fell into each other’s arms perfectly happy. On another occasion two brothers preferred receiving twelve strokes rather than make friends.
They own no money except what they earn as tamenes for the whites of the districts round about S. Cristobal. They still retain the character of the old tamenes, who followed armies and merchants in their distant expeditions; they begin their apprenticeship at eight years of age, when they accompany their elders, carrying, like Æsop, the supplies of the company; their load is increased from year to year until it sometimes reaches two hundred pounds. Their avocation is so ingrained in their habits, that they fancy they cannot walk unless they carry some weight, so that on their return journey they generally have a few stones at their back.
But the larger proportion of their earnings finds its way to the padre; for marriages, christenings, confessions, burials, masses, etc., have all to be paid for, so that the priest of Tumbala is not badly off, but he shares with his bishop, who must have a well-feathered nest. Besides this, the simple natives give in kind of all they have; they are proud when they are required to repair their pastor’s house, to run his errands, or carry him over the sierra when he travels; they consult him in all things, fully believing that the cura is able to help and see them out of all their troubles.
My luggage arrived at last, and as there was nothing to keep me any longer at Tumbala, I took leave of the hospitable priest, amply provided with food and letters of introduction to all the curas along the road, and set out for Jajalun, only a few hours distant, on foot, for the simple reason that no horses or mules could be obtained.
Jajalun stands on the declivities of the Cordillera, sloping down towards the Pacific; the hills are clad with dark forests of pines, whilst fields show signs of careful cultivation, where black beans intervene with golden harvests of maize. The population has a good sprinkling of half-castes or meztizos, who speak Spanish and live like the ancient aborigines, in houses built with mud coated over with plaster; their manners are those of the villages of the Mexican plateaux, rather than of the settlements we have just visited. Anteburros, “tapirs,” people the forests and the streams.
We were received in the same kind manner by the cura as we had been at Tumbala, and having thoroughly rested mind and body, we did not much mind having again to perform our next journey on foot. The road was good, and lay across level ground, we were well provided with all the necessaries of life, so that there was little to complain of; indeed, Julian was so set up with the good cheer and the kind attentions of the women during the last few weeks that, in his desire to entertain me, he sang nearly all the way what was meant to be a comic song.
At Chilon we found horses which carried us comfortably to Citala, where a Dominican friar, for the time being cura of the place, received us in his house and entertained us most hospitably. I found him a remarkably agreeable, well-bred man, of far greater culture than is generally the case with his brethren. Some years before he had published his views upon religious reform, and this had brought him in bad odour with his superiors. He was by nature of a sensitive, proud disposition, and he felt keenly the slur cast upon him by his banishment in which the best years of his life were frittered away, and his health undermined by the unhealthy climate and the absence of all social intercourse. The days I spent in the society of this genial, superior man, seemed to flit by unheeded; whilst I was given opportunities of noting down new traits in the character of the natives.
One day I happened to be in the church, whilst the friar was in his confessional, and, to my surprise, I saw him confess two persons at the same time, each speaking loud enough to be heard at some distance. Naturally enough I expressed my surprise to the padre. “Oh! it is the custom here; they do not think anything of it, and it not unfrequently happens that I confess husband and wife at the same time. You are aware that the seventh commandment is utterly disregarded by these people; so that when they happen to confess together, they of course hear of each other’s delinquencies, and the two culprits look daggers at each other across the grating. They are imposed a penance, which is always observed, are both absolved on their promise to go and sin no more, and the couple return peacefully to their home. It was a confession made in the presence of God, who has forgiven, therefore the husband has nothing to complain of; but if he found out the backslidings of his wife through any other means, it would go hard with her. Do not hurry away,” said the padre, “to-morrow I join twenty couples in holy matrimony; it is a saving of time and drunkenness, for one entertainment will do for all.”
I was much interested in a pretty patriarchal custom here, which consists in the female population coming up every evening to kiss their pastor’s hand and ask for his blessing. I came in for my share, and had then the opportunity to notice that they are not remarkable for good looks; and, as the priest said, there is small merit in resisting the devil.
We wished the friar farewell, and continued our course to Cankuk; where the kindly “padre” procured some men to carry us some twenty-seven miles of such bad road, that even the Indians do not trust their animals on it. It is the usual mode of travelling in this part of the sierra, but an uncomfortable feeling of the unfitness of things is experienced, in subjecting a fellow creature to become a beast of burden on your account. However, the feeling soon wears off, for they do not seem to mind it themselves, and they handle you about as they would a bale of cotton, and have a disagreeable way of flourishing you over fathomless abysses, which I found so trying that I deemed it prudent to perform the precipitous descent on foot.