“Came a squad of soldiers, crystal-tipped lances glinting in the sunlight; or a solemn procession of priests and devotees with sacred whistles shrilling or the boom of the tunkul, while the laughing crowd parted and made silent obeisance to the holy ones.
“Along the sides of the road every now and then are low raised platforms, or elevations, which have lost all semblance of their pristine contours, so that one can only guess at their purpose. It has been suggested that they were originally hollowed out and were holtunes, hollow stones, or water-reservoirs, where the traveler might quench his thirst. My own examination of them convinces me that they were, for the major part at least, nothing more than resting-places where the carrier might deposit his load, letting slip the band from about his forehead which held the burden on his shoulders. And well he might rest, this ancestor of the present sturdy Maya, for he bore just as incredibly heavy burdens for as incredibly long distances.
“There is a striking similarity in the practical engineering of the Maya roadways and the construction of the stone terraces upon which the temples were built. One day, bent upon the study of such construction and to verify certain conclusions I had reached, I had recourse to a deep excavation made in the base mound or pyramid of an important fallen structure which is located some distance north of the Great Pyramid of El Castillo. This excavation, so some of the natives told me, had been made by a ‘stranger’ (white man), short of body but thick-set and very powerful. He was, they said, ‘a very positive man, with a long gray beard, and this was so long ago that few are now alive who remember.’ No one who has ever seen and known the late Doctor Le Plongeon, intrepid investigator and discoverer of the famous monumental ‘Chac Mool’ figure, could fail to recognize the faithfulness of this native description. And from all his years of labor Doctor Le Plongeon evolved a Mayan theology which is either inspired or the result of a mentality unhinged by too great labor. Certainly it seems to be imagination run wild, with little of fact to bear it out. It is no less than tragic, for never did archæologist drive himself to more herculean effort than did Le Plongeon.
“To resume my story, this excavation was like a deep chasm, bisecting the crowning platform and going clear down to bed-rock, and thus it fitted perfectly my purpose. Nearly forty years had passed since Le Plongeon made the excavation, and Nature had done her best with wind and rain and vegetation to heal the wound. Loosened material from the sides of the cut had fallen in, providing an excellent bed for climbing vines, saplings, and big-leafed plants. The roots of big trees, no longer supported by the stones, had given way and the trees had fallen, bridging with their trunks the crevice. Vines, saplings, and flowering plants grew up and twined about and embraced the bridging tree trunks, so that one would scarcely know without close scrutiny that an excavation had been made. The two tree trunks which lay side by side, bridging the space overhead, were both of hardwood. One was a yax-nic, light-colored and with bark of silver gray, while the other was a chac-ti, dark red and with loose-held bark, in decay separating from the trunk in long, curling ribbons.
“Near me were many big spiders, flat, crab-like and motionless, yet with bright pin-point eyes that seemed fiercely awake, waiting and watching for whatever prey might come to their nipper-like jaws. Their long legs and still longer caliper-pointed antennæ lay sprawled flat against the tree trunks so close that on casual inspection the creatures might pass for bits of tree fungus. Small lizard-like reptiles, with beautiful diamond-like eyes and heads as ugly as sin, sprinted up and down the tree trunks and under and over the branches, skilfully avoiding the spiders and other dangers. Both spiders and tiny lizards on the yax-nic trunk were gray in color, blending perfectly with the bark surface, while those on the chac-ti trunk were dull red to match the bark—an example of natural camouflage or protective coloring as striking as any I have ever seen.
“Out came the powerful pocket magnifying-glass which I always carry. While looking at a gorgeous little insect decked in gold and green, I became aware of a commotion in the yax-nic tree and turned the lens in that direction. What I saw was a fearsome-looking head and a body that was no less than an walking horror. The head seemed to be all jaws and glittering eyes—deep, powerful grinding mandibles that worked like steel-cutting shears; eyes lidless, unblinking, bulging, and coldly cruel. And the whole body and pointed legs were incased in gray armor of metallic luster. It was with a sigh of relief that I laid down the lens and realized that I had been gazing only at a spider and not some antediluvian monster. Except for the comforting fact of relativity of size between man and these creatures, I doubt if there ever existed three more terrifying animals than the crab-like spider, chin-tun, the tiny crested lizard, hu, and the giant-armored ant, choch, whose sting is worse than that of the scorpion, often producing fever and sometimes death.
“Directly overhead, between the fallen trees, I could see growing at the top of the mound the thorny katzin, one long branch of which swayed over the brink of the man-made chasm. And almost at the very tip of this branch hung the pensile nest of an oriole, with the brilliant feathered male singing his lungs out beside it. The gold-and-black plumage against the green leaves and the glossy jet-black Spanish moss of which the nest was made produced a picture that Gauguin would surely have longed to put on canvas. Suddenly his song ended in a high-pitched scream, as a brown hawk swooped from the sky and clutched not the bird but the nest. With one scaly talon the pirate gripped the neck of the nest, while with the other he tore at its woven bottom. He worked like a flash, but my revolver flashed yet more quickly and effectively. The mother bird and the eggs, I think, were saved, but the nest was sadly in need of the work of an expert in oriole nest-repairing and I imagine it was some time before the master of the house recovered sufficiently from his fright to resume his liquid melody. At least I heard no more from him that day, although every other bird in the neighborhood immediately dropped what he was doing and came over to view the damage and condole with or congratulate the victims of the assault, so that it was a full ten minutes before the jungle resumed its habitual quiet and the averted tragedy was sufficiently forgotten for the near-by dzaypkin, or tree cicada, to resume his not unmusical note that sounds like a muted automobile siren.
“I had outlined my work for the morrow, selected the place where the shovel should follow out the prodigious work of Le Plongeon, gone these many years. I had even snapped the rubber band back on my note-book and was turning my thoughts luncheonward when almost between my feet I heard a frightened squeak and saw a small brown rabbit dart from the opening under the stone ledge on which I was sitting and scurry into the adjoining underbrush at a speed incredible even for a much frightened bunny.
“This looked promising and I concluded to sit a while longer and wait developments. Only a few seconds elapsed before there emerged from the same hole the blunt ophidian head of an enormous boa-constrictor. The unpleasant creature came out uncertainly and the ugly head wavered about nearly on a level with my knees and much too close for comfort. Boas, I think, have not a very keen power of scent. This one, at least, seemed to take up the trail of the rabbit with some difficulty. Yet I can believe, too, that that particular rabbit got over the ground so quickly that he left no scent whatever. Or it is possible that the near presence of an unseen human being bewildered the scent faculties of the huge snake.
“You may be sure that I had kept very, very still, trying to believe what has so often been told me—that few jungle creatures recognize man by his form alone as long as he remains silent and motionless. At any rate, the big reptile finally started in the general direction taken by the rabbit, which no doubt was several hundred miles away by that time if he had maintained his initial rate of travel. Apparently the same idea came to the boa, for he soon reappeared and, still heedless of my presence, passed almost between my legs and reëntered what appeared to be his permanent home, on the ground floor of the pyramid, in the interstices between the big stones which formed its base.