As has been said, water is scarce in this land, and frequently the women have to go long distances for even a jugful; yet they are always willing to share their supply with any one. The wayfarer is never turned away from their doors thirsty or hungry, even though he consume the last drop of water or bit of food in the house.
The Indian met anywhere, in the woods or on the trail, invariably removes his hat and voices a polite greeting. There were employed at Chi-chen Itza, during much of Don Eduardo’s work, about one hundred Indians. It was their pleasant habit each evening about sunset to pass in line before the hacienda and bid us good night. The ceremony took place as they were returning from the little near-by church,—for all the natives at that time were good Catholics,—and we saw no more of them until dawn, which was our hour for beginning work.
The modern Maya is devout, but he takes his religion placidly, leaving it to his spiritual adviser to tell him what to do or believe. In nearly every native hut is a shrine before which are dutifully observed the articles of faith—the faith of his conquerors who took away his galaxy of gods and substituted Catholicism.
The Maya home is built much as it was in ancient times. It usually consists of but one large rectangular room. The foundation is of stone held together with plaster called zac-cab, which means “white earth.” The walls are of poles or of stone plastered with zac-cab. The roof is peaked and thatched with straw or with stiff palm-like leaves. The door is of wood and there is sometimes a window, barred but without glass. A wooden cover may be inserted from within to close this opening when desired. No matter how poor the Maya family, there is always a flower garden in the rear of the house. If his domain is very limited, the garden of the Maya may be reduced to what may be grown in a large-sized Standard-Oil can.
Within, the Maya home is very simple. There are no beds as in ancient times; the native has adopted a Spanish innovation, seeking his rest in a hammock suspended from wooden pegs set in the wall. The hammocks are taken down when not in use. A simple stool or two, a bench or a chest, possibly a table, and the ever-present shrine constitute the furniture. Not infrequently there is an American-made sewing-machine. The kitchen is outside, in another smaller building, and the stove consists merely of a crude stone oven or heap of stones. The bath-room and laundry, where there is a wooden trough to hold water, also is outdoors. At meal-times the family sits on stools about a pot or vessel containing the pièce de résistance, and the use of fingers is not frowned upon.
The natives not resident in the towns or cities are for the most part employed on the haciendas, the majority of which are engaged in the raising of henequen. A few years ago there appeared a series of magazine articles, under some such heading as “Barbarous Mexico,” describing in the most approved yellow-journal style the cruelty and tyranny of the Mexican planters. I suppose there really are some isolated cases of cruelty, but in general the treatment of native workers by the plantation-owners leaves little to criticize. The native is free to leave one employer to seek another. His pay is good and he certainly is not overworked. On nearly every hacienda ample provision is made for entertainment and the fiestas and dances so dear to his heart. Many native families have lived and labored on one plantation for several generations—a fair indication that they are not ill-treated. One of the atrocities recited in the magazine articles just mentioned was the tying of an Indian to a post, where he was whipped severely. The whipping-post has existed, but its use was fostered by the Indians themselves and was reserved for the habitual drunkard or him who repeatedly abused his wife and children. Possibly a similar course of treatment might be beneficial to some citizens of the United States.
There was one unfortunate event, however, which reflected no credit on the natives, but for which they were far less to blame than a certain class of whites. Not long ago the creed of bolshevism was spread among these poor credulous people by a Rumanian fanatic, resulting in the murder of several plantation-owners and the burning of several estates. A few Indians at Don Eduardo’s hacienda, who had for some time failed to pay the slight rental required of them, became unruly and the master ordered them to pay up or leave. In reprisal they set fire to his house, Casa Real, and all the out-buildings, destroying many priceless antiquities intended for an American museum of archæology. The house has been rebuilt, but the lost treasures can never be replaced. The Indians also drove off all Don Eduardo’s stock and took everything in the way of valuables that was portable.
Don Eduardo, in relating his experiences as a plantation-owner, once said:
“A certain residue of Indians were never conquered by the Spaniards, nor have they ever been subdued by the Mexican Government; and they pay no taxes. They are called Sublevados and I have been warned ever since I came to Chi-chen Itza that some day the Sublevados would go on the war-path and wipe me and my hacienda clean off the map.
“Eventually I became tired of waiting for them to visit me and enjoy the friendly reception I had prepared for them, which included, among other things, the fortifying of the Great Pyramid. So I decided to make a little reconnaissance. Traveling south into their own country, I lived for some time in their villages, where they still practise the ancient Maya rites and incantations, even though there is a slight veneer of Catholicism among them. Since then I have traveled many times into the Sublevado territory; in fact, have been made a chief of the tribe by solemn bond and ritual. I have found them a peaceful, friendly lot of ignorant Indians, unlikely to do any harm as long as they are left to their own devices and in their present habitat.”