Читать книгу The City of the Sacred Well - T. A. Willard - Страница 5

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IMAGINE yourself the sole owner of a plantation within which lies a city more than twelve square miles in area; a city of palaces and temples and mausoleums; a city of untold treasures, rich in sculptures and paintings. Would you not feel shamefully wealthy? And does it not seem strange that Don Eduardo, the master of such a plantation, takes the fact of his ownership with apparent calmness?

But, before your fancy carries you too far, let me tell you a little more about this remarkable city, which may dampen your ardor for ownership, but which only increases its value in Don Eduardo’s eyes. It is a dead city. Its thousands of inhabitants perished or abandoned it nobody knows how long ago—probably before Columbus first saw the shores of America. And it is in the heart of Yucatan, where Mexico, ending like the upflung tail of a huge fish, juts into the gulf, while Cuba serves as a sentinel a hundred and fifty miles to the eastward.

The Treasure City, the City of the Sacred Well, with the queer-sounding name of the Chi-chen Itza (pronounce it Chee´chen Eet-za´), is for the most part overgrown with tropical jungle. Its treasures are valuable only to the antiquarian.

Early in our conversations about the City of the Sacred Well, Don Eduardo told me that because at the time of his purchase the plantation was well within the territory dominated by the dreaded Sublevados, the rebellious Maya Indians, no planter dared live in or even visit the region for long, and so he was able to secure the land from its absentee owners cheap, as plantation prices run in Yucatan.

THE ANCIENT CITY OF CHI-CHEN ITZA IS AT NO GREAT DISTANCE FROM THE UNITED STATES.

“My life-interest has been American archæology,” he said, “and I came first to Yucatan, thirty years ago, to explore its ruins and relics of an ancient civilization. Even before that I had read of the immense Sacred Well at Chi-chen Itza—a well as wide as a small lake and deep enough to hold a fifteen-story building—and had made up my mind that I would be the man who some day made it yield up its secrets. For a long time I tried to persuade various wealthy Americans to finance the undertaking, but organizing a stock company to raise sunken galleons along the Spanish Main would be a simple task as compared with my difficulties in promoting what seemed a will-o’-the-wisp project. At last, however, I did succeed.”

But I am ahead of my story.

The trip from New York to the City of the Sacred Well requires but a week and may now be accomplished luxuriously, whereas my earlier journeys over the same route were anything but comfortable. Mr. John L. Stephens, who was sent to Yucatan by the United States Government in 1841, describes, in his interesting book “Incidents of Travel in Yucatan,” the difficulties of travel which he met. They might have daunted any spirit less courageous than his. His four volumes, although written nearly eighty years ago, retain their pristine freshness and are still authoritative. I recommend them heartily to the reader.

On any Thursday the traveler destined for the City of the Sacred Well may board at New York a Ward Line steamer bound for Progreso, the only port of Yucatan. The liner stops over at Havana, and a day and a night after leaving that hectic city one awakes in the early dawn to the deep-chanted tones of a sailor who is casting the lead. “Four fathoms,” he cries; then, “Three fathoms,” and finally the engines are hushed and out goes the anchor. Through the port-hole is seen a lighthouse and behind it a faint, foggy vista of low-lying sandy shore.

By the time the unhurried ritual of arising has been performed and one appears on deck all is flooded with brilliant sunshine. The sky above is a cloudless cobalt blue. The day is hot, but the sea-breeze keeps it from being uncomfortably so. One senses, nevertheless, in some subtle way, that he is actually in the tropics. So shallow is the water that ocean-going vessels may not safely approach to within less than five miles of the rather uninspiring port of Progreso, marked by several long piers jutting into the sea and the aforementioned lighthouse. Passengers and goods must be taken off in lighters or in small boats. On approaching the shore one sees rows of pelicans sitting alongside the wharves—the most serious and sad-looking birds imaginable. They remind one of the rows of Glooms frequently portrayed by one of our cartoonists in the daily newspaper comic strip.

There is little reason for tarrying in Progreso, even though it is the third most important seaport in Mexico. It is from here that the henequen of Yucatan is shipped, and the cultivation of this cactus-like plant, from whose fiber rope and twine are made, constitutes the chief enterprise of the province. Two railroads, one narrow-gauge, the other standard, cover the twenty-four miles between Progreso and the lovely city of Mérida, capital of Yucatan. Oddly enough, the fare is higher on the narrower, longer, and poorer road than on the road of standard gauge. The latter is modern in every respect and provided with coaches and locomotives imported from the United States. The daily Peniche Express starts on time and arrives in the same fashion.

The Grand Hotel at Mérida is the customary stopping-place for all foreigners and is a very good and well-operated institution. It faces the beautiful tree-lined Plaza Hidalgo, but is, unfortunately, located close to a number of churches and a cathedral whose cracked bells are rung mightily at various hours and particularly when one wishes to sleep. As a result, persons not yet hardened to this venerable Spanish-American custom are likely to have a broken night’s slumber.

Mérida is a city of 63,000 people and is modern in many respects. It is hot there in the sun but cool in the shade, for there is always a breeze from the perpetually blowing trade-wind. The city is healthful, well paved, electrically lighted, and excellently served with street cars, and it has many handsome buildings and residences. Its population varies all the way from the pure Castilian, through the Mestizos, to the Mayas or full-blooded Indians. Almost every night a band plays in one of the several plazas or parks. North-American airs are favored and I have heard them much more badly played by musicians in our own land than here under the tropical moonlight, in a setting of rarely beautiful and fragrant flowers. During the band concert daintily clean Indian girls, in their voluminous embroidered dresses or huipiles and embroidered sandals, circle about. In another circle stroll their Indian beaux in high-heeled sandals and starched white cotton suits. The ladies of the upper class, dressed in the Spanish or European manner, are driven slowly about the plaza in their automobiles. Formerly carriages—the sort we call, or did call, landaus—were used, but the automobile has displaced these and in so doing has destroyed half the charm of the scene. Nevertheless it is still charming. The romance of it may be guaranteed to put a thrill into the cold heart of the loan shark from Chicago. It alone is worth the trip to Yucatan and it cannot be described; it has to be experienced at first hand.

During the month of February there is a carnival in Mérida, ending with a fancy-dress ball for the four hundred socially elect. The carnival rivals the Mardi Gras of New Orleans and is enthusiastically celebrated by the whole populace. The floats and decorations are quite as costly and tasteful as any seen in the New Orleans celebration. One year I happened to be in Mérida at the time of the carnival and through the kindly assistance of my good friends Mr. and Mrs. James I received an invitation to the ball. This gorgeous affair would have compared creditably to any similar festivity in New York.

The ball took place at the palatial home of a wealthy Yucateco. This house is built in the usual Yucatan fashion. In front is a large doorway guarded by a heavy wrought-iron grill or gate. On each side of the doorway are the living-quarters, consisting of a dining-room and what we should call a living-room. These rooms form the front of a quadrangular structure surrounding a patio in which are flower beds, fountains, and tiled walks. Around the inner wall of the quadrangle is a promenade wide enough for several people to walk abreast and this is roofed over, the tile roof being supported by pillars and arches of Moorish type. The wings and rear section of the house contain the chambers for the family and guests, the kitchen, and the servants’ quarters. I imagine that this particular residence had cost not much less than a million dollars. The interior is finished in Italian marble and luxuriously furnished in the Parisian manner.

And this is by no means the most palatial residence in the capital. The wealthy people of Yucatan spend much of their time in Europe and their homes show the effect. The houses have beautiful tiled floors and the walls are frequently frescoed or covered with excellent paintings; yet as a rule the rooms are somewhat bare of furniture. One building particularly worthy of mention is the most ancient in Mérida, erected in 1549 by Don Francisco Montejo, the Spanish conqueror of Yucatan. On its façade is a grotesque Indian-Moorish representation of two armored knights trampling on prostrate Indians, while below is a stone tablet bearing the name of Montejo and the date of building.

Recently an American club was started in the city, with a membership of several Americans, three or four Britons, and the remainder Yucatecos who speak English; and some do speak it fluently. The club is predominantly masculine, as the only ladies who attend are those who have lived at some time or other in the States and have acquired our customs. As a rule the women of Yucatan observe the old Spanish custom of seclusion. Girls are not permitted to go out with young men. A girl’s lover may spend the evening standing before the barred window of his inamorata’s home, conversing with her and strumming upon his mandolin or guitar for her edification. If he is finally accredited as a suitor, he is permitted to enter the house and sit in a stiff-backed chair across the room from his sweetheart, but Mamma and Auntie and all the other ladies of the family are there, too, to insure decorous behavior.

The population of Yucatan is chiefly composed of the native Indians or Mayas. They are simple, kindly people and capable of development, for they are highly intelligent. To the best of our knowledge they are the direct descendants of the early Mayas, who in culture and achievements compare favorably to the people of ancient Egypt. Some of the wealthy Yucatecos are descendants of the old Maya nobility and still retain the original names denoting noble birth. But many descendants of Maya kings of old are now sunk in poverty.

Most of the present-day Mayas speak a language which has developed little from its primitive syllabic form. The Japanese, many of whom are found in Yucatan nowadays, learn the Maya tongue easily. In fact, many Japanese and Maya words are identical in sound, but as far as I know they have absolutely no kindred meaning. Some theorists have even advanced the idea that the similarity in form and construction of the Japanese and Maya languages indicates a common prehistoric origin. But there is scant proof of this, inasmuch as all primitive languages are syllabic in form.

The Maya is short in stature but surprisingly sturdy. A native will carry a load of a hundred pounds for fifteen miles without showing signs of undue fatigue. The carrier supports the load on his back and it is held in place with a band or strap passed around the forehead. Occasionally the carriers stop and let down the loads, but never for more than a few moments. An Indian porter will trot upstairs with a trunk which an ordinary mortal could hardly budge and which, alone, he contrives somehow to lift upon his back. I remember seeing two Indians carry a piano, supported on poles, for a distance of two blocks, with their customary gliding shuffle when carrying a burden. Had they at any time fallen out of step the piano must surely have been wrecked. This shuffle or trot is half-way between a walk and a run and it eats up distance.

Not uncommonly the Mayas are handsome, with regular, delicate features. Some of the young women are very beautiful, even judged by North-American standards. They are mature at twelve years of age and, like the women of so many races of the tropics, they wither or grow fat at a comparatively early age. The color of the skin is about that of a good summer coat of tan, though possibly a bit more reddish in hue. Dress the average Maya in our mode and put him on any street in our country and he would pass without comment. On closer inspection he might be said to be of foreign ancestry, but certainly he would not be mistaken for a negro.

These people, descendants of a truly great race, are decidedly superior to all other native American peoples. Their mentality is of a fairly high order. At first, in my visits to Yucatan, I had no knowledge of either the Spanish or the Maya tongue and when I had only natives for companions I was compelled to communicate with them by sign language made up on the spur of the moment. Even in the jungle my companions always understood my directions easily and carried them out correctly.

The ordinary, every-day dress of the native men is a pair of white-cotton trousers ending half-way between knee and ankle. We should have difficulty in defining them either as long or as short. The upper garment is a short-sleeved undershirt, and the ensemble is topped off with almost any kind of straw hat. Usually they also wear a short blue-and-white-striped apron fastened about the waist. Wide belts are popular—the wider the better. Frequently the men go barefoot, but more often wear sandals, fastened with twine about the ankle, a string passing from the front of the sole and between the first and second toes. When working in the fields the men sometimes discard apron and trousers, wearing only a breech-clout and hat. Sometimes they let their hair grow long so that it falls over their faces and then even the hat is discarded. On Sundays and feast-days the more affluent, at least, blossom out in starched white trousers and jacket and high-heeled wooden sandals.

The women customarily wear a huipile, which garment is neither a Mother-Hubbard nor a nightgown, but belongs, evidently, to the same genus or species. At any rate, it is sufficiently modest. It has a slightly low neck and short sleeves and reaches half-way from the knee to the ground. Beneath this is the pic, a white underskirt tied about the waist with a draw-string. Over all is worn the rebozo, a kind of shawl, and the native woman feels much ashamed if seen without this useless garment. Sandals may or may not be worn. The costume is always essentially the same. Sometimes the huipile is ornately and beautifully embroidered at the neck and on the sleeves. I am told that a girl will spend a year in embroidering a single huipile for her hope-chest. The garment is of ancient origin and I have seen murals in the ruined temples, painted centuries ago, which show women in just such embroidered garments, and at work making tortillas, which are still the main article of food in this land.

Many of the Maya women wear gorgeously embroidered sandals or slippers. The hair is done up in a knot at the nape of the neck and tastefully fastened with a ribbon. Gold chains with various sorts of pendants, such as medallions of the Virgin Mary or crosses, are very popular. Frequently the Maya belle wears several of these chains. And they must be solid gold; plated stuff or alloy may not be worn. It simply isn’t done. In her native costume the Maya girl is very pretty and picturesque, but in European dress she resembles only a shapeless bundle tied in the middle.

The Mayas are all very clean; the daily bath for men, women, and children is universal. A sort of wooden trough serves as a bath-tub as well as the family wash-tub. The bather pours the water over his body and makes a little water go a long way, because water must be carried by hand, usually from a distant well. For a man, even the humblest, to come home at the end of the day and find his bath unprepared is just cause for a rumpus with his wife. Clean bodies and clean clothes are characteristic of the Maya and much of the generally considered more civilized world might well take a lesson from him in this respect.

The women stay at home and attend to their household tasks and take care of their numerous children while the men work in the fields. This custom is universal even among the laboring people, and it is noteworthy because nearly everywhere else in the world both women and men work in the fields. In fact, in many countries the man does the most resting.

The Maya men are exceptionally fond of children and a widow with children stands an excellent chance of finding a stepfather for her brood. It is not uncommon for a man of twenty to marry a widow twice his age, chiefly for the sake of a ready-made family. Incidentally, the unmarried Maya maiden with a child or two, especially if the children are boys, is somewhat more likely to find a husband than her virgin sister. The fact that there may be some question as to the paternity of her offspring is of small consequence in the eyes of her prospective husband. But once married, she may accept no attentions from men other than her spouse. The husband may and does shoot on sight any cavalier found hanging around her. It used to be the custom to suspend a string of shells near the door, and one did not enter a house without giving due warning by shaking the string. A man did not enter at all unless the men of the family were present.

Maya nature is that same human nature found the world over. If abused, these people can be ugly and vengeful. Treated in a reasonably decent manner, they are kindly, generous, hospitable, and scrupulously honest. Personally, I have never been cheated nor overcharged by a native. I suppose that as more and more tourists come to Yucatan the invidious custom of fleecing the traveler will be established here as it has been everywhere else.

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.”

The Maya is happy-go-lucky, improvident, and usually lazy. He dearly loves a good time, a good story, and a good joke, especially if it is of the practical variety in which the other fellow is the butt. He is very fond of fiestas and dances.

The native dances are quite different from ours. The men and women sit close to the walls of the hut or inclosure, sometimes on chairs but more often on stools. On important occasions, the music is furnished by violins, guitars, and perhaps some wind-instruments. But always there is one musician with a long gourd containing stones, which is shaken in time to the music, producing a hollow chuck-a-chuck, chuck-a-chuck sound. Sometimes the only instrument is a flageolet. The music is always in a minor key and is without pause or period or end. A girl—any girl—gets up and proceeds to the center of the floor, where she shuffles about for perhaps a minute. Then from the other end of the room some man, who may be a stranger to the girl, comes forth and shuffles about in front of her. They do not touch each other. They gyrate rather slowly and move in circles, always facing each other. When either becomes weary, he or she retires and another takes up the dance. If the room is sufficiently large there may be as many as three couples dancing continuously in this manner. The dancers do not smile nor appear to be enjoying the occasion; yet they must derive pleasure from it, for throughout the country dances are held frequently.

Knowing the Mayas of to-day, and their customs, it is interesting to follow their history back to the earliest times of which there is authentic record, and from there, through legends and scraps of knowledge, into their most ancient past. For four centuries we may trace them backward through well-known history. For still another century the record is fairly clear. Back of that is only legend, with here and there some startling, incontrovertible fact to prove their antiquity. The flickering light of our knowledge becomes dimmer and dimmer. We know a date in their history about one hundred years before Christ, but on what preceded that no feeblest ray falls to enlighten our ignorance.

To one man, long since departed, we owe a great debt. But for him, our knowledge of the ancient Mayas would be almost nil, and it is only by a lucky chance that what he wrote was not lost to us. This man, Diego de Landa, was Bishop of Yucatan (1573-79), and he came to America on the heels of the Spanish conquerors. His manuscript,—almost our only guide to Maya antiquity and known as “Relacion de las Cosas de Yucatan,”—lay hidden in Madrid for nearly three hundred years ere it was discovered and published.

To show how little the Mayas have changed in four centuries I am going to quote from Landa, using a very free translation but endeavoring to preserve his meaning. I hope the reader will bear in mind that the following is a description of the Mayas of the sixteenth century and is chiefly interesting when compared with the Mayas of to-day:

The Indians of Yucatan are well built, tall and robust. They are generally bow-legged, because mothers customarily carry infants astride their hips. It is considered a mark of beauty to be cross-eyed. The heads and foreheads are flat, having been bound in infancy. Their ears are pierced for ear-rings and are torn by the sacrifices. The men do not have beards and it is said the mothers burn their boys’ faces with hot cloths so that hair does not grow. Some do have beards, but these are very stiff, like the bristles of a pig. The men permit the hair of the head to grow long except on top, where they burn it off. Thus the hair of the crown is short, but the remainder is long and is braided and wound like a wreath around the head, leaving a small tail in the back as tassels or tufts.

Their dress is a strip of cloth about as wide as a hand and wound several times about the waist, with one end hanging in front and the other in the back. The women adorn these ends curiously with feathers. They wear large square blankets, which they fasten to their shoulders, and sandals of hemp or deerskin.

They bathe a great deal and do not try to hide their nudity from the women, except with their hands. The men use mirrors and the women do not. The expression for cuckoldom is that the wife has put the mirror in her husband’s hair above the occiput.

Their houses are roofed with straw or palm-leaves and the roof has a considerable slant. They put a wall lengthwise through the middle of the house and in it some doors. In the back half are the beds and the other section is whitewashed and is the reception room for guests. This room is like a porch, the whole front being open and without a door. The roof over this part of the house extends well down over the walls, to keep out sun and rain. The common people build the houses of the chiefs and house-breaking is considered a grave crime. Beds are made of small rods with a mat and cotton blankets on top. In summer the men especially sleep in the open room or porch, on mats.

All the people unite in cultivating the fields of the chief and supplying food to his household. In hunting, fishing, or bringing salt, a share is always given to the chief. If the chief dies he is succeeded by his eldest son, but his other descendants are respected and helped. The subordinate chiefs help in all things, according to their stations. The priests live from their offices and from the offerings given to them. The chiefs rule the town, settle disputes, and govern all affairs. The principal chiefs travel a great deal and take much company with them. They visit rich people, where they arrange the affairs of the villages, transacting their principal business at night.

The Indians tattoo their bodies, believing that they become more valiant thereby. The process is painful, as the designs are painted on the body and then pricked in with a small poniard. Because of the pain the tattooing is done only a little at a time, and also because the tattooed part becomes inflamed and matterated, causing sickness. Those who are not tattooed are ridiculed. The natives like to be flattered and they like to imitate the Castilian graces and customs and to eat and drink as we do. They are fond of sweet odors and employ bouquets of flowers and sweet-smelling herbs. They are accustomed to paint their faces and bodies red, which does not improve their appearance but which they consider beautifying.

They are very dissolute in getting drunk, from which follow many evils such as murder, arson, rape and incest.... They are fond of recreation, especially of dances and of plays containing many jokes and witticisms. They sometimes become servants for a time in a Spanish household just to absorb the conversation and customs and these are later artfully represented in native plays.

Their musical instruments are small kettle-drums played with the hand and another drum made of hollow wood, played with a wooden stick containing on the end a ball made of the milk of a certain tree [rubber]. They have long, slender trumpets fashioned from hollow sticks with gourds fastened at one end. Another instrument is made from a whole turtle-shell, which is played with the palm of the hand and emits a melancholy sound. They have whistles and flutes of reed or bones of the deer and from large snail-shells. These instruments are played for their war-dances. One of these dances is called co-lom-che, meaning reed. A large circle of men is formed. Two go into the center. One has a handful of darts and while dancing in an upright position he casts the darts with all his strength at the second dancer, who dances in a squatting position, from which he deftly catches each dart with a small stick. After the darts are all thrown, these two dancers return to their original places in the circle and two new dancers advance to the center and repeat the dart-throwing. There is another war-dance in which about eight hundred men take part. They carry flags and the tempo is slow. They dance the whole day without stopping and during the whole day not one man gets out of step. In no case do the men dance with the women.

There are many occupations but the people most incline toward trading, taking salt, clothing, and slaves to the lands of Ulna and Tabasco, where they exchange for cocoa and counters of stone which are their money. With these coins they buy slaves, or the chiefs wear them as jewels at feasts. They have other counters and jewelry made of certain shells. These are carried in purses made of network. In the markets are all manner of goods. They loan money without usury and pay their debts with good-will. Some Indians are potters and carpenters who are well paid for the idols of wood and clay which they make. There are surgeons—or, rather, wizards—who cure with herbs and incantations. Above all, there are laborers and those who plant and gather the corn and other produce which they store in granaries to be sold in season. They have no mules or oxen.

The Indians have the good custom of helping one another in all their work. In working the land they do nothing from the middle of January to April except gather manure and burn it. Then come the rains and they plant the fields, using a small pointed stick to poke holes into the ground in each of which they deposit five or six seeds which grow very rapidly in this rainy season. They also congregate in groups of about fifty for hunting or fishing.

When going on a visit, the Indian takes a present to his host and the host gives the guest a present of proportionate value. They are generous and hospitable. They give food and drink to all who come to their houses.

They take much pride in their lineage, especially if they are descendants of some ancient family of Mayapan and they boast of the distinguished men who have been of their family. The whole name of the father is always borne by his sons, but not by his daughters. But the children, both sons and daughters, are called by the compound names of father and mother, in which the name of the father is the given name and that of the mother the surname. Thus the son of Chel and Chan would be Na-Chan-Chel, which means son of Chel by his wife Chan. A stranger coming to a village, especially if he be poor, will be received in all kindness by any family of his name. Men and women of the same name do not marry, for this is considered very wrong.