Market had begun in the morning, as we prepared to leave, but the great plaza was not more than half-full, and there was little that was characteristic. Noteworthy, however, were the great loaves of salt made at Ixtapa; about the size of old-fashioned sugar-loaves, they were shaped in rush-mats, and showed the marks of the matting on their surface; saws were used to cut off pieces for purchasers. The agente said that it was not good, being mixed with earth or sand. He, himself, came from the neighborhood of Tapachula, where quantities of salt are made from the lagoon water. The salt-water and the salt-soaked earth from the bottom of the lagoon are put into vats and leached, and the resulting saline is boiled in ovens, each of which contains an olla. The industry is conducted by ladinos, as well as indians, but the salt is poor.
It was 8:45 when we started, and almost immediately we began a hard climb over limestone, giving a severe test to our poor animals. At the summit we found a group of indian carriers, who, as usual, stopped at the pass to rest and look upon the landscape. The view was really beautiful, the little town lying in a curious, level valley, which was encircled by an abrupt slope, and which had been excavated from an almost level plateau. For some time, we followed this high level, but finally plunged down into a deep gully, where our road passed away to the left in a dry gorge, while to the right, the valley deepened abruptly by a great vertical wall. When we reached the point of sudden deepening, in the gorge below, we saw water, bursting in volume from the cliff's base. Dismounting from our horses, and climbing down, we found a magnificent arch of limestone over the emerging stream, the water of which was fresh and cold, and clear as crystal. The shallow portion of the valley marks the ancient level of the stream. In some past time, the stream had sunk, cutting a subterranean channel under its old bed, which was left high and dry. The deep part of the valley may be due to the falling of the roof of rock above the subterranean stream. Following up the ancient valley, we presently turned into one of its old tributary gorges, coming out into a country well-wooded with pines and oaks. The whole country hereabouts is composed of monoclines, all the crests presenting one long, gentle slope, with rocks dipping with the slope, and one abrupt short slope, cutting the strata. The roads, for the most part, follow along the edge of these monoclines, making them unusually long, though easy. The rocks over which we passed were an olive shaly-sandstone, with notable concentric weathering, limestone, and here and there, red sandstone, abundantly green-spotted. Indians, everywhere, were burning over fields, preparatory to planting, while the day was clear, the smoke rose in clouds, and at many places we suffered from these field fires. Twice we passed a point just as the flames leaped from one side of the road to the other, and rode between two lines of blaze. The fire, burning green branches and stalks, caused thousands of loud explosions, like the rattle of musketry.
Long before we were near it, we caught sight of Cancuc, the beautiful, perched upon its lofty crest. In San Cristobal, our journey had been matter of conversation among the mestizos and many and dire predictions had been made. "Ah, yes, it is easy for these gentlemen to do this work here in the cabecera, but let them get to Tenejapa, and Cancuc—there it will be another matter; they will be killed upon the journey; if they reach Cancuc, they will never leave the town alive." The town is built on the edge of a ridge, which drops in both directions, leaving barely room for the placing of houses. From it, we looked out in every direction over a magnificent landscape. Cancuc is famous for the insurrection of 1712. Curiously, like the outbreak at Chamula in 1868, it was due to the visions and religious influence of a girl. Maria Candaleria was the centre and impulse of the whole movement. Dr. Brinton has thrown the incident, which abounded in picturesque details, and which caused the Spanish government great difficulty, into a little drama, which bears the name of the inspired priestess.
TZENDAL MAN AND WIFE; TENEJAPA
TZENDALS; TENEJAPA
We were now within the district of my friend Valencia. Two years ago, when we passed through the country of the Mixes, he was the jefe politico of the District of Yautepec; he had been transferred to this state and this district, with his cabecera at Ocosingo. That town lay far from our course, and we had written Señor Valencia, that we planned to pass through his district, but had not time to visit the cabecera. We named the towns through which we planned to pass, and begged him to send orders directly to the local authorities, instead of trying to communicate with us. This he had done promptly, and during our stay in his district, everything was done for us without delay. The agente at Cancuc is a new official, but a man of sense, and sympathy for the indians, among whom he lives. We arrived at half-past three and had our mozo been on time, might have done some work. The agente showed us the historic picture in the old church; it is the portrait of a clergyman, whose influence did much to quell the insurrection in 1713. More interesting to us than the old picture, were groups of indians, kneeling and praying. When they knelt, they touched their foreheads and faces to the ground, which they saluted with a kiss. Having assumed the attitude of prayer, they were oblivious to all around them, and, curiously, their prayers were in the native language. The town-house was placed at the disposition of our party, but the agente's bed, in his own house, was given to me. As I sat writing at the table in his room, the whole town government—a dozen or so in number—stalked in. Most of them wore the heavy black chamaras made by the Chamula indians. These were so long that they almost swept the ground. The faces of the men were dark and wild, and their hair hung in great black shocks down upon their shoulders and backs. In their hands they held their long official staves. Advancing to the table where I sat, in the order of their rank, they saluted me, kissing my hand; arranging themselves in a half-circle before my table, the presidente placed before me a bowl filled with eggs, each wrapped in corn-husks, while the first alcalde deposited a cloth filled with a high pile of hot tortillas; a speech was made in Tzendal, which was translated by the second official, in which they told me that they appreciated our visit; it gave them pleasure that such important persons should come from such a distance to investigate the life and manners of their humble town; they trusted that our errand might be entirely to our wishes, and that, in leaving, we might bear with us a pleasant memory. They begged us to accept the poor presents they had brought, while they assured us that, in them, we had our thousand most obedient servants. And this in Cancuc—the town where we were to have met our death! At night, the fires on a hundred hills around us made a magnificent display, forming all sorts of fantastic combinations and outlines. In the evening, the son of the agente, who had been to Tenango with a friend, came home in great excitement. He was a lively young fellow of eighteen years. At the river-crossing, where they arrived at five in the evening, a black cow, standing in the river, scared their horses so that they could not make them cross; the boy emptied his revolver at the animal, but with no effect; it was clearly a vaca bruja—witch cow; an hour and a half was lost before they succeeded in getting their horses past with a rush.
THE TOWN GOVERNMENT; CANCUC