The machete is the invariable companion of the poorer and middle classes of Mexicans, and the multiplicity of uses to which it is dedicated are something wonderful to the uninitiated. With it he clears the tangled paths in the forest; it helps to build his hut, to cut his firewood, and eat his dinner; he uses it for purposes of warfare, and too frequently also for purposes of assassination. The blade is broad, slightly curved, a little shorter than an infantry officer’s regulation sword, and about twice as heavy. The handle is generally made of wood, the scabbard leather, and the edge invariably as keen as a razor. Occasionally the blades are ornamented with gold or silver, but the ordinary machete is perfectly plain.
Next morning we were up before daylight, and hastened to the banks of the lagoon, where according to agreement we should have found our canoe. None was forthcoming, however, and not until the sun broke fiercely on our heads and our patience was completely exhausted did our guide prevail on the man who was to have provided it to go in search of another. After a still further considerable delay, at last he arrived, but with a rickety conveyance that would only hold one gun besides the paddler; and H——taking the canoe, I walked along the edge, and our shooting commenced.
The place was full of all kinds of odd-looking waterfowl. Geese, duck, teal, pelicans, flamingo, and spoonbills were in hundreds, and many kinds of waders unknown to me; in fact, such an extraordinary variety of fresh-water birds I had never seen together before. The ducks were particularly handsome, having bright bronze breasts, which shone like burnished metal in the sun. Of teal I shot several varieties, many of them with exceedingly beautiful and brilliant plumage; but I think among the queer ones I killed there were none more beautiful in plumage than the spoonbill; for though his singular and uncouth beak did not improve his countenance, he had the most lovely and delicate tinge of rose-color through his white feathers it is possible to conceive. We had him for dinner two days afterwards, and found him excellent.
Not knowing a quarter of the birds that got up, and many being fishy and unfit for food, whenever one rose the guide would cry either “Buéno” or “No buéno,” as it happened to be fit or unfit for culinary purposes; and so on for nine miles along the banks, sometimes through mud, at others through sand, and at others through jungle or water, did I plod along, taking whatever was termed “buéno,” and occasionally peppering an obtrusive alligator when he came anything inside twelve yards.
The heat was intense, and, to add to the discomfort of walking, the paths through the jungle and mangrove swamps occasionally bordered the edges of the lake, and were so thickly crossed by cobwebs that they were perpetually knocking off my hat, getting in my mouth and eyes, and at times almost impeded my progress. I never saw anything like them. Occasionally large forest-trees were entirely covered from top to bottom, and so thickly shrouded that not a leaf or twig could be seen through its unnatural-looking winding-sheet. The lagoon seemed full of fish, which were jumping in shoals all over it; but not once during the day did we see a single bird settle on its surface; and from the number of alligators swimming about, I think they showed their wisdom.
It was capital sport, but precious hard work also, and I was just about “played out,” when we reached a “ranche,” where, after a pull of cold water that must have somewhat alarmed my constitution, I tumbled into a grass hammock, uncommonly glad to get out of the burning sun.
A pleasant-featured young Mexican woman, with a dark-eyed, good-looking sister, soon despatched between them one of the many chickens running about the house; and while the cazuela was preparing they very good-naturedly washed out my shirt, lending me, ad interim, some embroidered garment of their own. The rest of my clothes were hung up to dry, every stitch on me being thoroughly saturated. H—— and the canoe soon after arrived, and how we did enjoy the homely but excellent fare our hostess put before us! Then came pipes and a siesta, and a couple of hours’ rest saw us fit to return. H—— had got enough of it, and, borrowing a horse, rode back to the village. I returned in the canoe, and got a good many shots en route. Our bag was a mixed one, and consisted of the birds I have already mentioned, with several others whose names we did not know, and four rabbits. Wild duck and teal predominated, and the guides could hardly stagger from the canoe to the houses with our united bag.
The sun was fast setting as we left Pira la Questa on our return journey, and ere we reached the mountain-top it was quite dark. Unable to see a yard before us, but knowing we must go on, I threw the reins on my mule’s neck, and, lighting a pipe, resigned myself implicitly to his sagacity, not only to find the path, but to avoid the obstacles which at every step lay before him. My confidence was not misplaced. With nose almost touching the ground, he seemed to smell his way along, and not once during our long ride did he deviate for a second from the proper track, or make a single false step or stumble. The sounds and strange cries during the dark stillness of the night were very remarkable. Whether caused by bird or insect I could not tell; but one in particular, resembling the prolonged whistle of a locomotive steam-engine, was frequently of more than a minute’s duration without ceasing, and of such volume and intensity that unless I had been aware of the utter impossibility of a train being within hundreds of miles, I would have almost sworn to so familiar a sound. The lights of Acupulco at last came in sight, and our animals soon after deposited us safely, after a somewhat trying but very agreeable trip....
On the 10th of May we left Acupulco and steamed quietly along the Mexican coast in sight of land until we reached Manzanillo Bay, on the southeast part of which are situated the few wretched huts that constitute the village. The harbor is well protected from southerly winds, but not from those directly from the westward. Behind the village, and only a few hundred yards from the sea-beach, is a large shallow lagoon which runs nearly forty miles into the interior, and at the end of the dry season becomes almost empty. The exhalations at this time rising from the mud and stagnant water are most dreadful, and even at our anchorage the stench during the night was almost unbearable....
Next morning, before daylight, we started with Mr. D—— across the lagoon to a place about an hour’s row from the village, where he said he was in the habit of getting wild duck. The lake was so shallow that our boat often grounded, and the oars at each stroke disturbed the black, ink-like mud that constituted the bottom. The sides were beautifully wooded, and surrounded by ranges of hills extending far into the interior, the edges of the water being fringed with a belt of mangrove-trees, whose peculiarly bright green foliage contrasted pleasingly with the sombre coloring of the leafless trees behind them. The perfectly stagnant water was of a light-yellow tint, and as full of alligators as it could well be....