This account which has come down to us will save much head-scratching on the part of future archæologists as to the purpose of the unique court and its carved millstones.
The Gymnasium or Tennis-court and the buildings surrounding it were not pure Mayan, but were unquestionably introduced under the Nahuatl or Aztec régime.
Nearly all of the remaining buildings are in too bad a condition to yield much of further interest until careful digging and replacing of fallen parts can restore them to some semblance of their original form. One such fallen temple on a great pyramid is now marked only by four nine-foot pillars whose square sides are chiseled with queer bearded figures, some of whom carry what I can only call a “rabbit-stick”—evidently some sort of ceremonial staff or wand. These pillars were unquestionably the front of an immense temple whose wooden lintels have given way, letting fall the whole edifice. In front of this ruin were several stone tables, and apparently they stretched at one time, end to end, clear across the base of the pyramid. The tables were of various heights and consisted of stone slabs six inches thick and about three feet wide. They were supported by grotesque dwarfish Atlantean figures with upraised hands, the palms held flat and on a level with their heads. While grotesque, these figures have much dignity and sureness of line. Originally they were brightly painted.
The tables have been so disarranged that it is impossible to tell what was their original position or even to guess at their purpose. The temple faced west, as indicated by the broken stairway leading up to it. In the midst of the debris lies a fractured serpent column nearly five feet in length, with a stone tongue projecting two feet from its fanged lips. The column rising from the serpent’s head is two feet in diameter and its capital was the creature’s tail. The broken outlines of a rear chamber reached through a vestibule just behind the serpent column measure thirty-six by fifteen feet. The doorway of the chamber has square-cut, sculptured jambs.
A few hundred feet to the north is the ruined Temple of the Cones. Strewn all about are large cone-shaped stones like big projectiles, but cut and carved. It is thought that they formed some sort of ornamental frieze. Some are handsomely sculptured. There are also in this vicinity figures of the Chac Mool type—an animal body, usually a jaguar, with the head of a man.
Some distance to the right of El Castillo are the ruins of what must have been a very important temple. They occupy a great irregular mound some six hundred feet long and are bordered by several pyramids and other ruins of varied character. The largest of the pyramids is fifty feet high and stands in the northwest corner of the group of ruins. All that remains of it are columns, but there are almost a forest of them, some round, some square. We have called this ruin the Temple of Columns. It seems as though here must have been an elaborate plaza of temples, colonnades, and sunken courts. Even now archæologists from the Carnegie Foundation of Washington, D.C., are at work in reclaiming this portion of the Sacred City from the jungle, clearing the debris and working out the jig-saw puzzle of replacing each fallen stone in its rightful position.
Everywhere for miles one comes upon huddled debris-covered mounds and carved stones. In the very heart of the jungle is the overgrown ruin of a tremendous pyramid and temple, while here and there unexpected columns rise amid the trees. More than thirty such ruins have been counted, choked by rank jungle growth—palaces, no doubt, of high priests and mighty chieftains. And I think sadly as I view them that the study of archæology is long and time is fleeting.