Almost all the carreteros at this camp were Juchitecos. They were great, strong fellows, and almost all of them wore the old-fashioned indian breech-clout of red cotton under their drawers or trousers. When they were working at their carts, greasing the wheels, or making repairs, they were apt to lay by all their clothing but this simple piece of cloth, and their dark-brown bodies, finely muscled, hard and tough, presented handsome pictures. The little fellows who accompanied them, up to the age of twelve, usually ran about with no article of clothing save their little breech-clouts and white cotton shirts. In the early afternoon, serious work began, and everywhere we saw these men patching coverings, greasing wheels, readjusting cargoes, feeding and watering their animals, harnessing, and making other preparations for leaving. During the idle portion of the day, dice were in evidence, and Eustasio was fascinated with the game. The stakes, of course, were small, but he kept at it persistently until he had lost five pesos, when, with forcible words, he gave up. I am sure the dice were loaded, but I am equally sure, from all I know of Eustasio, that the next time he makes that journey, he will have some loaded dice himself. Setting out at 3:30, we were at the head of a long line of cars, and were soon making another steady zigzag to ever greater heights than those before climbed. According to the official itinerario, the distance from Dolores to San Miguel is five leagues; we had left Dolores a league behind in arriving at Carizal, and we naturally assumed that four leagues would bring us to San Miguel. Eustasio, however, who never under-estimated, claimed that it would take constant travelling until eight in the morning to reach Los Pinos, which is still this side of San Miguel. This is a fair example of the inaccuracy of figures published by the government. As I looked behind at the long line of carts, some of which were empty, and able to journey at good speed, the desire took possession of me to hire one, at least for a short distance, in the hope of getting a little sleep. Looking over the line, to make my choice, I had just selected one, and was about to broach my plan, when its driver ran the vehicle into the branches of a tree, which projected over the road, and tore away his awning. The idea was unaffected by this accident, however, and picking out a cart, which had a thick layer of corn-husks piled in it, promising a comfortable bed, I arranged my bargain with the owner, and deserted my party, betaking myself to my private car. Having no load, we pushed ahead and, stretching myself at full length upon the heap of corn-husks, I was soon asleep. It was my purpose to disembark at Los Pinos, but we had passed that place long before I awoke, and were in sight of San Miguel when I opened my eyes. It was too early for breakfast, so I concluded to ride along to Macuilapa, where my carter turned off into another road. It was just eight when we arrived, and I thought of my companions as probably just reaching Los Pinos. Starting from there at three in the afternoon, they should overtake me at seven. So I took possession of the great country house, sitting in the corridor all day long. The house is a long, large, single-storied building, with heavy tiled-roof; the store-houses, sheds and other out-houses, with the adobe huts belonging to the workmen, surround a somewhat regular area. The view, however, in front of the house is uninterrupted, and looks off into a narrow valley, bounded prettily by hills. The house has a wide brick-paved corridor. Near it was an interesting ancient stone carving. The rock was coarsely crystalline, and gray, or olive-gray in color. It had been battered into the bold, simple outline of a frog, crouched for leaping; the head had an almost human face, with a single central tooth projecting from the lower jaw. The work was in low relief, and looked as if the ancient workman had taken a natural boulder, and beaten with his hammer-stone only sufficiently to bring out the details. The stone measured perhaps four feet in length, three feet in breadth, and two feet in thickness. It was found in the mountains near, and, from the marks upon it, seems to have been embedded in the soil half way up the legs. Probably, when first made, it was placed so that the feet were even with the ground surface, but the accumulation of vegetable soil since has been considerable. The Hacienda of Macuilapa manufactures sugar and raises indigo, quantities of the seed of which were being cleaned when I was there. The owner of the place is a man of means, but the meals served were of a mean and frugal kind. Everyone made dire prophecies about the time of possible arrival of my companions, and the period necessary for our further journey to Tuxtla Gutierrez. I had not expected my companions before seven, and after these dismal forebodings, gave up that expectation. To my surprise, they appeared, in good health and spirits, at five o'clock, though with exciting tales of peril and suffering. After a meal together, we again mounted in the old fashion, and were on our way. The air was fresh and cool, and at 9:30 the moon rose, giving perfect light. The road was high and sandy, with occasional small ascents and descents. At eleven we stopped to rest, I agreeing to wake them all at midnight; at one o'clock I was awakened by our carretero raising the tongue of the wagon! We passed La Razon at three. As one of the oxen, which had been somewhat lame, was now in bad condition, we all dismounted, half-a-league before we reached Zapote, and walked the rest of the way. The Hacienda of Zapote is really almost a town. There are two fincas, belonging to two brothers. Their fine large houses, the out-buildings, and the clusters of adobe huts for the workmen, make an imposing appearance. We stopped at the first group of buildings, which stands a little lower than the other. Arriving at six, we spent the whole day at this place; the meals at the great house were excellent and cheap. In the afternoon we heard marimba-playing; the instrument was called la golondrina and cost the owner forty-three pesos. The players were carefully trained, being four brothers. The youngest of them was not more than fourteen years old, but he put much expression and spirit into his playing. It was the first time that any of the party, but myself, had heard this instrument, and all were delighted at its brilliant, quick, and pleasing music. We left at 3:45 in the afternoon, but our ailing animal was worse than ever, and Eustasio ran ahead, trying to secure others at different ranches. He had had no success when, after a rough ride of several hours, we drew up at Jiquipilas, where we waited until the morning. We planned to secure new animals, to leave at dawn, and to reach Tuxtla after a twenty-four hour ride. We laid down and slept, waking at five, but finding no sign of animals. We breakfasted at seven, and a little later the new oxen appeared. There were two yokes of rather light animals. Leaving our sick beast, and driving the other three along with us, the new animals were put to the loads, and at eight o'clock we started. I failed to recognize Rancho Disengaño, but having passed it, we found ourselves at the bottom of the much-dreaded, last important climb of the journey. The little team dragging the passenger cart was inefficient and unruly; tiring of them, I dismounted and went ahead on foot. For a time I drove the unyoked cattle, but a stubborn one wandering into the brush, I gave up the job, and left poor Louis, who had just overtaken me, to chase him. He had hard work, through tangled brush, here and there, up and down, until at last the animal was once more upon the road. The boy was hot, tired, and loaded with pinolillos. These insects had been in evidence for a long time back. They are exceedingly small ticks, which fix their claws firmly in the flesh, and cause intolerable itching. Keeping in the road, the traveller is little likely to be troubled by them; but walking through grass, or among leafy plants, is dangerous. Having climbed a portion of our great ascent, we found ourselves at Agua Bendita. It was not as beautiful as on the occasion of my other visit; the projecting ledge of rock had little water dripping, and in the round catch-basins, which formerly were filled with fresh, clear water, there was scarcely any; on account of the unusual dryness, the ferns were wilted, and there was little of that beauty and freshness which so delighted me before. Eustasio said that he had never seen the spot so dry in all his many journeys. Nor were there orchids blooming on the great tree near; nor any of the little toucans which had been so attractive in 1896. As we stood, seeking for these well-remembered things, we heard curious cries rising from the valley. At first, I thought it was indians wailing for the dead; then, that it was a band of pilgrims singing. But it turned out to be a company of cowboys, bringing cattle up for shipment to Tabasco. Some rode ahead, and, with loud but not unmusical cries, invited and urged the animals and their drivers to follow. The beasts were divided into three bands, thirty or forty in a band, each of which had its mounted drivers. The animals were lively, and we were warned that they were muy bravo. Manuel had taken the task of driving our loose cattle, and was fearful that he would be overtaken, asserting that the cowboys had said that he must keep on, as they could not pass him with their animals. When he came up to where we were, we put a quick end to his folly, driving our three oxen to the outer edge of the road, where Louis and he stood guard over them, while I crept up on the cliff to avoid scaring the animals that were coming. It took much driving, urging, and coaxing on the part of the cowboys to get the first two or three to pass us, but after they had led the way, the others followed with a rush.
AGUA BENDITA
MOVING THE GREAT STONE; AGUA BENDITA
Presently our passenger-cart came along, with both teams of oxen hitched to it; the new animals had proved too light to drag their proper loads, so the freight-cart had been left behind, and the full force employed in dragging the first cart up the hill. Just beyond this spot, we found a gang of indians, under a superintendent, prying off an immense rock mass that had fallen from the cliff above onto the road, with the intention of dumping it over the wall into the abyss. It would have been a sight to have seen it plunge, but we had no time to wait, so simply stopped a few minutes to see the method of moving the immense mass with pole pries. Our cart had gone ahead, so we finished the ascent on foot, and having gained the summit, walked a short distance on the high plateau to Petapa, where the cart and carretero, Manuel and Ramon, were waiting. Before we arrived, we met our men going back with the four oxen for the freight-cart. We had supper at the ranch, and waited, until at six o'clock everything was ready. Here we sent back the two yokes of animals which we had brought from Jiquipilas, and secured a fine, strong beast to make up our number, and started. We did not stop to grease the wheels, for lack of time. It was dark, and the first part of the journey was uncertain and difficult; coming out on to the Llano Grande, we found things easy, though here and there were stony places, where we jolted fearfully. At 10:30, we had passed La Cienega, and our ungreased wheels were not only an annoyance, but, Eustasio suggested, a source of danger, as they might take fire. So, at 11:30, we stopped to grease them. As the axles and wheels were then too hot for grease to be safely applied, we lay down while they should cool. Probably in less than five minutes, we were all asleep, and no one moved until, waking with a start and looking at my watch, I found it two in the morning. We hastily applied grease, without removing the wheels, and hurried onward, passing Sabino Perez, Yerba Santa, and Sabinal. Here, the errors in our itinerario, and in our driver's guessing at distances, were curiously emphasized. We had a rather heavy descent, for some distance, over a limestone hill called Santo Domingo. Nowhere do I know of any road which, under the best of circumstances, seems as long as the last stretch before Tuxtla Gutierrez. This we had noticed on our earlier journey, when we were mounted on horseback. Present conditions were not likely to diminish the impression. At last, at 11:30 in the morning of March 12, we reached the capital city of the State of Chiapas, and were taken by our carretero to the little old Hotel Mexico, kept by Paco, where we met a hearty welcome and, for several days, made up for the hardships of our journey in the way of eating.