Famous stone idols are found in this vicinity. In plowing the fields or digging holes they are turned up by scores, in all shapes and sizes; the tourist pays good prices for them, and the more sensational the story attached the higher the tariff; the guide at the hotel showed me a white arrow flint. He had bought it the day before at Cholula for a medio, and said he was going to daub it with chicken blood and sell it to the next party of tourists as a wonderful relic, which had been used on the sacrificial stone to kill thousands of people. He would tell them that the worshipers of the sun used to get a victim and the one who could send the arrow with this flint directly in the center of the victim's heart stood in favor with their god, the sun. At the depot, besides being bothered with at least twenty idol peddlers, a woman with a baby tried to make me buy it. She refused to sell to any one in the party, but coaxed me to take it, telling all its good qualities. It was good, very amiable, sympathetic and very precious. Partly to get rid of her I asked, "How much?" "Dos reals" (twenty-five cents) was her astounding reply. "That is too cheap," I said; "I cannot take it unless the price is $100." Evidently she did not understand jesting, for she kept on saying, "No, senorita, dos reals; muy benito." I successfully resisted its charms as well as her persuasions. At the last moment, when the car started, she ran after me, saying I could have the baby at $100, if I wouldn't take it at twenty-five cents; but the car soon left her in the distance, and we had a good laugh at the poor woman's reasoning powers and lack of business qualities.
The tramway ends at Atlixco, a lovely little village midway between Cholula and Puebla. One of the most beautiful things along the way is the famous tree at the foot of St. Michael's Mountain. It is called Ahuehuete. It is many centuries old and a very curious shape. Its trunk is hollow, with a hole big enough for a horseman to enter at one side. Thirteen men on horseback can find plenty of room in its big body. The orchards at this village are valued at $2,800,000.
There are twenty-four hotels in Puebla, and some are first-class in every respect. They serve coffee from 6 to 9, breakfast 1 to 3, and dinner 6 to 9. The penitentiary looks like a Spanish fortress. It is very old, picturesque, and covered with orchids, but the state authorities decided they needed a new one, and have built a handsome one of stone and brick, which is said to resemble one in Pennsylvania, whether East or West I know not, but from a distance it looks somewhat like the Western, although all similarity faded on closer inspection. There are several parks, and very pretty ones, too, in Puebla. In the main one they have music nightly. At the east end of the town they have sulphur baths, which are considered very healthy.
The most unique bull-fights of the whole Republic are held here. One Sunday they fought all afternoon in the regular style, but when evening came, they turned on the electric lights, set a table in the center of the ring, put on it tin dishes, and all the fighters sat down as though to eat, one of them attired in a long, white dress. As soon as they were seated comfortably the gate was flung open, and the toro rushed in. At the same moment two banderillas containing fire-rockets were stuck into him, and as they exploded the maddened bull made a rush for the table. The occupants jerked up the tinware, and with it began to fight off the bull. Then they jerked the table apart, and fought it with the pieces. When the men and beast were pretty tired, the bull was allowed to attack the one in white, the so-called bride, and the swordsman, who of course represented her husband, defended her, and killed the bull with one thrust of the sword. It was simply magnificent, and so exciting that everybody was standing on their feet yelling lustily at every new move. The fight was called "The Interrupted Bridal Party."
The next Sunday they fought the bulls on burros instead of horses. The men had their bodies protected by plates of tin, and when the toro charged they jumped off the burro and ran behind screens, while the poor little animal had to run for his life, and that was the funniest part of the programme. The following Sunday all the fighters stuffed themselves. They looked as if they had feather beds around their bodies. Then they dressed up in fantastic garb. No horses were allowed in the ring. When the time came the men lay flat on their backs, and and as the door was opened and the bull came tearing in, they wiggled their legs in the air to attract its attention.
One peculiar feature of bull-fighting is that the bull will never attack a man's legs, but always strike for his body. The toro would rush for the prostrate form, and the American auditors would hold their breath, and think that the fighter's end had come, but just then the bull would gore him in the stuffed part, and the man would turn a complete somersault, alighting always on his feet, safe and sound. The bull would turn those men into all sorts of shapes without either hurting them or himself.
Puebla is considered the richest State in Mexico, and in it one can select any climate he desires. Puebla City is never cold, is never warm; it has the most delicious climate in the world, just the degree that must please the most fastidious. In the State are wonderful stone quarries. Every color of clay is used to make dishes, vases, and brick, and abundance of chalk for making lime. In the rivers and small streams several kinds of sand are secured, which is used for many purposes, and a few miles away are large veins of iron and other minerals; there are mountains of different varieties of marble and onyx, from the transparent to the heaviest known; extensive fields of coal, quicksilver, lead, with wonderful mines of gold and silver everywhere; there is one strange mountain called Nahuatt (star) covered with rock crystal, the fragments resembling brilliant diamonds, and at another craggy place beautiful emeralds are found. In many places are hot springs.
The woods are fortunes in themselves. Besides all the Mexican varieties are cedar, ebony, mahogany, pine, oak, bamboo, liquid amber, India rubber, and above all the writing-tree, the wood of which has been pronounced the finest by five countries. Its colored veins are on a yellowish ground, and it forms thousands of strange figures, monograms, words and profiles. Then there are the silk cotton tree, the logwood and thousands of others. Some of them produce rich essences, others dyes which never fade. A cactus also grows here from which wine is made which they say far excels that of Spain or Italy. In the cold and warm districts are raised cotton, tobacco, vanilla, coffee, rice, sugar-cane, tea, wheat, aniseseed, barley, pepper, Chili beans, corn, peas, and all the fruits of the hot and cold zones. There are salt mines and land where cattle, horses, mules, burros, sheep, goats and pigs are raised on an extensive scale. The flowers are so varied and abundant that a gentleman who has been exploring the paradise says their products would supply all the drug stores of the world with perfume. These are a few of the charms of the State of Puebla.
There is quite an interesting story connected with the emerald district. The Indians found one and placed it on the altar of the church to serve as a consecration stone. It was three-quarters of a Spanish yard, or a little over one-half English yard, in length. Maximilian, during his short reign, went to Puebla to examine it, and offered $1,000,000 for it the moment the jewel expert with him pronounced it extremely fine. The Indians refused, and asked $3,000,000. Afterward an armed force went to kill the tribe and carry off the gem, but were themselves whipped. The Indians then decided to bury it for safe keeping, when a wily Jesuit promised eternal salvation to the living, the dead, and the unborn, if they would give it him in the name of the Holy Virgin, who, he said, had asked for it. The poor innocent and faithful wretches gave their immense fortune away for a promise that was worse than nothing, and the treacherous purchaser cut it into small portions and sent it across the sea to be sold, he reaping the benefit. The god Quetzalcoatl, which once graced the top of the pyramid at Cholula, was sold to an American a few years since for $36,000.
A few miles out from the city, situated in the midst of a barren plain, stands the magnificent old castle of Perote, which is celebrated in Mexican history as the last home of many of her dark-eyed senoras, who have either pined to death in its dreary dungeons or been murdered during revolutions. It was once the national prison of the Republic, and was considered one of the strongest buildings in the world. Even now it is stronger and more formidable than most fortresses. There is much more of interest, historical and otherwise, to be seen in and around Puebla, and one could spend months of sight-seeing every day, and still have something worth looking at. If a gentleman or lady resident of Puebla is asked where their home is they will quickly answer, "I live in Puebla, but am not a Pueblaen." The latter word translated into Spanish means false and treacherous, hence the carefulness of the people always to add it.