CHAPTER XVII
THIRTY YEARS OF DIGGING
RIGHT here in America, only a short journey from the United States and closer to them than our Panama Canal, are the remains of at least sixty ancient ruined cities—marvelous places about which we know almost nothing, nor of the people who built them.
We know infinitely more of the ancient Egyptians—of their buildings, their customs, their beliefs, their history, and their writings. Virtually every hieroglyphed surface left by them which has been uncovered has been pored over by many archæologists and its meaning deciphered beyond question.
For a hundred years antiquarians from every civilized land have spent their lives in studying the ancient empire of the Nile. Millions of dollars have been expended in scientific, minutely careful exploration. No slightest clue to further knowledge has been ignored, and tons of books, written in every language, have been printed, so that the man on the street anywhere may go to his nearest library and, if he will, read all there is to know on the subject.
And here at our very door, on our own continent, are the remains of an early culture not one whit less interesting than the Valley of the Kings. Possibly it is not so old, but on the other hand it is more steeped in mystery because of our profound ignorance. We know next to nothing about it: who were its builders; where they came from; their history, creeds, or customs. We can read but a few scraps of the writings of which they left such an abundance—enough, in all probability, to fill in many of the empty spaces in our knowledge if we but had the power to decipher them and extract their meaning. Even our hard-won and sadly limited information concerning this culture has never been given to the general public. To get it one must read Spanish and French and German, as well as English, and the average public library contains possibly three or four books on the subject.
Until last year no well-planned, completely equipped exploration backed by ample finances had ever been undertaken. Archæologists have delved in many of the ancient Maya cities—puny expeditions pressed for time and cash. The work backed by the Peabody Museum has been the most consistent, but even that has suffered often from lack of finances, and much of Don Eduardo’s work has been done at his own expense.
Happily, I think the American public and American antiquarians are waking up to the neglected opportunity. The expedition sent out by the Carnegie Foundation is most promising. It has well-laid plans; it is under the leadership of Sylvanus G. Morley, a thorough-going archæologist and one of the foremost in knowledge of the ancient Maya culture. He has made the study of the subject his life-work and has achieved fame through his finds in the Maya area. He has uncovered many important date-stones and is the most eminent authority in this specialized activity.
The new exploration is being carried on at Chi-chen Itza on a big scale and most methodically; and, best of all, it is prepared to continue twenty years if necessary, to the ultimate completion of its work. Fallen temples will be rebuilt, stone by stone. Every scrap of knowledge that can be extracted from the excavations and study of what is already uncovered will be noted and correlated. There can be no question that this work will add very largely to antiquarian lore.
I await with eagerness the delving into what Don Eduardo calls “old Chi-chen Itza,” the completely ruined and tree-covered part of the ancient city, which lies to the south of the newer and less damaged buildings, for it is there that the most ancient architecture and the noblest carvings are to be found and, with them, other remains of the highest Maya culture—the relics of that earlier golden age which had already fallen to decay before the Nahuatl dominance resulted in the buildings of a lower order in the newer city.