Our track led, in an almost straight direction, over hills and across valleys, maintaining an average altitude of about seven thousand feet. In this region orchids were numerous. On the edge of one of the lofty plateaux overlooking a narrow valley, I stopped to look at and sketch a tall wide-spreading pine, upon whose branches these plants were growing with the utmost luxuriance. The orchids in this part of Guatemala are constant to a certain altitude which, as nearly as can be estimated, is about six thousand five hundred feet. They exclusively prefer to dwell upon the branches of oaks and pines, and always cling to such as are strong and full-grown.
The manner of their habits in selecting the trees upon which they desired to settle, was eccentric. Thus, with respect to the pines, they chose those that had broad, spreading branches, and avoided those whose branches grew upwards. They adopted the same rule with the oaks. In no instance did I see orchids growing upon any trees except oaks and pines; all others were left bare. But even when the groups seemed to be all well suited for their purpose, they would select certain favourites, and upon the branches of these they would abound, giving life and colour to them, and leaving the neglected trees dark and gloomy by contrast. The majority of the orchids were green, but sometimes they were of a bright rose colour, and these when seen, as we then saw them, clearly defined against a deep blue sky, gave a brilliant colouring to the foreground. They added much to the pleasure of our day’s ride. They were gay, capricious and beautiful.
San Tomas stands high and commands wide and extensive views of the sierras. Upon reaching the plateau we rode through the village, and finally stopped at the gate of the convent within whose walls we were received by Padre Hernandez. He afterwards proposed that I should look at his church and the altars.
There was much in the interior that had a special interest, in relation to the obscure subject of the ancient faith of the Quichés, the great tribe that possessed the dominant power in this part of Central America at the time of the Spanish Conquest, and whose descendants are believed to dwell in this secluded part of the country. There was no religious service taking place or about to be held, and there was nobody present within or without; but the nave and chapels were illuminated with numbers of candles. The church was large and there were several side altars. In front of each of them rows of lights had been placed. Down the length of the nave there was a long thick block of wood in which were fitted sockets for holding candles. There were also quantities of offerings placed before each image, or whatever emblem the Indians chose to worship.
“For in these matters,” said the Father, “I do not interfere, and in fact, I have no power or authority whatever within my own church. The Indians come and go as they please, light their candles, hold their own services before the altar, and frequently take one of the saints out of the church, and carry it away to some hut where, for several days, they will perform musical ceremonies before it, and then the saint will be brought back to its proper altar.”
Padre Hernandez, although he had lived many years with these Indians, had not been able to obtain the slightest positive knowledge of what they really believed. All that he knew about the subject was, that they were very superstitious and devotional. He said that in many cases in the sierras, they had their places of worship where they kept idols, and at certain seasons of the year went to make offerings, and also to sacrifice animals to them.
After a stroll through the village, I went to the Plaza, in the centre of which were assembled the Alcaldes and other parish dignitaries. They were sitting round a wood fire, discussing some urgent matters of local interest. As I had not hitherto stopped in a populous district or village entirely peopled by Indians, and controlled by native Alcaldes, I decided to join the group. I received an Indian welcome from these Quichés, by not being noticed and was given a place in the circle in silence. I soon became interested in listening to their extremely harsh and guttural language, and in observing the types of the men, all of whom were Indians of leading families.
It was a fine night. The new moon was low in the horizon. The planet Venus was just beneath it, and immediately above was Jupiter, a rare and beautiful conjunction, looking bright and sharply defined in the clear atmosphere of this elevated table land.
When the discussion came to an end I left the Alcaldes engaged in toasting tortillas over the embers of the fire, and returned to my host at the convent. It had been the fate of Padre Hernandez to have passed the best years of his life in the vain endeavour to get these Indians to understand the tenets of his faith, but he had latterly given up, as useless, all these attempts and left them to follow their own wills. One great and unexpected difficulty he had found impossible to overcome, in consequence of the imperfection of the Quiché language, was his inability to convey in equivalent terms the ideas he wished to explain. He also experienced another serious hindrance in the execution of his duties. His parish was extensive and contained several villages which lie amongst the sierras, remote from each other; and as the Quiché is an unwritten language, and there are consequently no grammars or dictionaries to create a fixed standard, words are forgotten, sometimes their meaning becomes changed or they are differently accented or applied; and thus, in the course of time, the dialect of one village differs from another.
I observed to the Padre, that, on the way from Sololá, I had noticed that the Indians contrived to live in an isolated manner. He said this was always the case with them. They were naturally inclined to keep much apart. Those who lived amongst the mountains had their huts at considerable distances from each other, and the villages maintained but little communication; as a natural consequence the language was always changing. “All these Quichés,” he said, “are becoming extremely ignorant. They keep no record of time or events, and do not seem to take interest in anything except the dull procedure of their daily lives.”