After leaving the hamlet, we passed by the little church whose bell we had heard upon the previous night. The door was closed, and I noticed that it was charred by burning and blackened by smoke. I was told that this remote church was frequently closed during the time that the priest was away in other parts of the district, and when the Indians came here, they stuck lighted candles upon the door as nearly as possible in the direction of the image to which they wished to make their offerings. The church door was consequently deeply marked by the flames. Here, as also before the closed doors of other chapels in the mountains, the Indians have the custom of raising a temporary altar outside, before which they place offerings, and sit patiently in silence for many hours. They then fill a brazier with chips of resinous wood, and light their candles and the brazier and go away to their huts, leaving the incense burning. This is possibly a survival of the ancient usage of burning copal incense before their idols.
During the forenoon we went over several steep ranges of hills, and down very abrupt descents until we arrived at the village of St. Martin, when we stopped at a deserted shed, and Carlos proposed that he should get ready the breakfast. It was always a pleasure to watch an Indian lighting a fire. His materials are usually a few dry sticks, some leaves, a flint, a steel, and a roll of prepared cotton, which, when slightly burnt, easily catches fire from the sparks of the flint. There was often, however, a difficulty in getting the fuel to burst into a flame, and the steady persistent patience of Indians in doing this is extraordinary. It was a great comfort in riding amongst the sierras, to have always the power of making a fire. It was of still greater importance to carry your own bed.
Each morning when starting upon a journey over an unknown country, with much uncertainty as to where quarters would be found for the night, there was a sense of satisfaction in seeing placed upon the pommel of the saddle the hammock in which you intended to sleep. It gave freedom from all anxiety with regard to the future. There was no cause to feel any doubts respecting the beds at a Spanish posada, or the rough interior of an Indian hut, and there was always the prospect of obtaining, after the fatigues of the day, a good night’s rest. In thus travelling and having at hand sufficient provisions and fuel to guard against being by any accident in want amongst these mountainous regions, there was a feeling of independence which was very exhilarating. This kind of gipsy, Bohemian life was singularly attractive, and the small element of risk from the possibility of meeting hostile Indians was too slight to have any influence upon the mind. There was a certain degree of solitude in thus riding without a companion, as the guide ran several hundred yards ahead, but this was not much felt, for there was a never ending change of scene, and every hour brought something new and unexpected.
In the evening as we descended the slopes of the valleys, we met numbers of Indians carrying heavy loads on their backs. I had noticed when riding amongst the higher parts of these hills that crosses were placed upon all remarkable positions, and at the corners where paths branched off towards the hamlets. When passing these crosses the men invariably took off their broad straw hats, and showed by their manner great respect.
I was surprised at observing in the valleys that the Indians suffered much from goitre. This unsightly growth seemed chiefly to affect the women. It was the same in size and appearance as that which exists amongst the inhabitants of several of the secluded valleys in Switzerland.
At intervals during the afternoon we heard the distant sound of the beating of a drum calling the attention of the Indians for some purpose which we did not then understand. When we drew near to Jacaltenango we became aware that something was occurring which caused considerable excitement amongst the people. We passed an open space at the entrance of the pueblo, upon which had been built, temporarily, a “Santo” house. It was a small round hut, within which was an image, which had been removed from the church and placed there, in order that it should receive special honour and devotion. Before this shrine a dance was taking place. It represented incidents of the wars between the Spanish Christians and the Moors during the period when the latter were finally driven out of Spain. A little beyond the “Santo” house was the church where an Indian festival was in progress, and an orchestra was busily engaged within, performing a musical service. I stopped for a few minutes to look at the strange and fantastical scene, and the groups of swarthy, wild-looking Indians, and then rode on to the convent, where we were welcomed by Padre Juan Chrysostemos Robles. My guide Carlos went away to join in the festivities of his tribe.
In the morning an Indian passed rapidly through the village beating a small drum, and later in the day, a large crowd of Indians assembled in the square in front of the church. It thus became known that an important meeting was to be held in order to bring about a settlement of some difficulty or disagreement between two hamlets, with respect to the buying and selling of lands. About three hundred of the men, chiefly interested, gathered together. The speaking began in tones so harsh that it was almost inconceivable that human language could have developed into such rough and grating sounds.
These Mams were men of strong and muscular frames, compact and well made, but they were all short in stature. Their general appearance was wild and they had a restless manner. They came from the adjacent hills, and it was noticeable with them as with other Indians I had seen in the mountains, that they were darker than those living on the plains. The meeting lasted for about an hour, and as soon as the business was ended they immediately left Jacaltenango and returned to their homes. I was told that the matter in dispute had been settled to the satisfaction of all present, and that there was no longer any fear of local disturbances.
Meanwhile the numerous orchestral services within the church were still proceeding. It was a curious scene. The chief instrument was a large wooden marimba made on the principle of short and long sounding boards, the upper notes of which were played by the leading performers, whilst three other men kept up a continuous accompaniment on the bass. It was evidently an improvement upon the African marimba which had probably been introduced into America by the negro slaves. There were also violins and several rudely constructed guitars. The musical ceremonies were performed before the altars, the Indian congregation maintaining a complete silence. Not the least strange part of the function was the fact that Padre Robles was an unconcerned spectator, although it was his church that was occupied by the Indians and his “Santos” that were being carried about and worshipped, and to whom offerings were made.
Although the music was noisy and monotonous, the players seemed to have a correct knowledge of harmony. The Padre explained how this happened. He said that this comparative knowledge of music was obtained in consequence of the teaching of the friars before the dissolution of the monasteries. These friars devoted much of their time to the education of a certain number of Indian lads in orchestral music, in order to train them to take part in the church services, and he supposed that the instruction then given was kept up in some way which he did not understand, and that young Indians were taught in their villages for this work. He thought that the preparations for the church festivals and for the dances were also arranged in a similar manner.