knew more about corn-raising than the natives did and that I would
demonstrate a few things that would be useful to them; so I instructed
my foreman to procure a cultivator and cornplanter from the United
States. At Tuxpam I found an American plow which had been on hand
perhaps for some years, and was regarded by the natives as a sort of
curiosity. No merchant had had the rashness, however, to stock himself
with a cultivator or cornplanter. The foreman was ordered to plow
about fifteen acres of ground and plant it to corn as an experiment.
The natives hearing of the undertaking came from a distance to see the
operation. They thought it was wonderful, but didn't seem to regard
it with much favor. The piece was planted in due season, and the rows
both ways were run as straight as an arrow. It required the combined
efforts of all the extra help obtainable in the neighborhood to rid the
corn of the pests that beset it, but after cultivating it three times
and "laying it by," the height and luxuriance of growth it attained
were quite remarkable. Standing a trifle over six feet tall I could
not reach half the ears with the tips of my fingers. The ground was
rich, and as mellow as an ash-heap and appeared to rejoice at the
advent of the plow and cultivator. One night in August there came a
hard rain, accompanied by the usual hurricanes at this season, and next
morning when I went out, imagine my astonishment to find that not a
hill of corn in the whole field was standing! Its growth was so rank
and the ground so mellow that the weight of one hill falling against
another bore it down, and the whole field was laid as flat as though
a roller had been run over it. It was all uprooted and the roots were
exposed to the sun and air. We didn't harvest an ear of corn from
the whole fifteen acres. The other corn in the neighborhood withstood
the gale without any damage. This experience explained why it is that
the natives always plant corn in hard ground, and also furnishes
additional proof that it is usually safe to adhere pretty closely to
the prevailing customs, and exercise caution in trying any innovations.
After clearing a piece of land for corn the natives will plant it for
a couple of years, then abandon it to the weeds and brush for awhile.
They then clear another piece, and in two or three years the abandoned
piece is covered with a growth of brush sufficiently heavy so that
when cut and burned the fire destroys such seeds as have found their
way into the piece. After land here has been planted for a few years
it becomes so foul with weeds that it would be impossible for a man
with a hoe to keep them down on more than an acre. It is surprising how
rapidly and thickly they grow. The story of the southern gentleman who
said that in his country the pumpkin vines grew so fast that they wore
the little pumpkins out dragging them over the ground would seem like a
plausible truth when compared with what might be said of rapid growth
in Mexican vegetation. They say that the custom of wearing machetes at
all times is really a necessity, as when a man goes to the field in the
morning there is no knowing but that it may rain and the weeds grow up
and smother him before he can get back home. I am, however, a little
skeptical on this point.
A serious difficulty which has to be reckoned with in Mexico is
the utter disregard that many of the natives have for the property
rights of others. Pigs, chickens, calves, and even grown cattle,
are constantly disappearing as quietly and effectually as though
the earth had opened in the night and swallowed them. One evening a
native came in from a distance of twelve miles to purchase six cents'
worth of mangos, and being otherwise unencumbered in returning home
he took along a calf which he picked up as he passed the outer gate.
At another time when the cane mill was started in the morning, it was
discovered that a large wrench, weighing probably twenty pounds, was
missing. There being no other mill of similar construction in the
community, it was inconceivable that anyone could have had any use
for the wrench. The foreman called the men all together and told them
of the disappearance. He discharged the whole force of more than a
hundred men, and said there would be no more work until the wrench was
returned. Next morning it was found in its accustomed place at the
mill, and every man was there ready to go to work.
Shortly after buying the ranch I was spending the night there, and went
out to hunt deer by means of a jack,--a small lamp with a reflector,
carried on top of the head, and fastened around the hatband. Assuming
that the reader may not have had any experience in this lonesome
sport, I would explain that on a dark night the light from the jack
being cast into the eyes of an animal in the foreground produces a
reflection in the distance resembling a coal of fire. If the wind is
favorable, one can approach to within thirty to fifty yards of a deer,
which will stand intently gazing at the light. The light blinds the
eye of the animal so that the person beneath cannot be seen even at a
distance of twenty feet. The hunter can determine how near he is to
the game only by the distance that appears to separate the eyes. For
instance, at 125 to 150 yards the eyes of a deer will shine in the
darkness as one bright coal of fire, and as one approaches nearer they
slowly separate until at fifty to sixty paces they appear to be three
or four inches apart, depending upon the size of the animal. It is
then time to fire. It is always best to proceed against the wind, if
there is any, otherwise the deer will scent your presence. The eye of
a calf or burro will shine much the same as that of a deer, and one
must be cautious when hunting in a pasture. I took my shotgun with a
few shells loaded with buckshot, and passing through the canefield
came to a clearing about half a mile from the house. As I approached
the opening I sighted a pair of eyes slowly moving towards me along
the edge of a thicket next the clearing, apparently at a distance
of about seventy-five yards. I knew it was not a deer, because that
animal will always stand still as soon as it sights a lamp. It was too
large for a cat, and did not follow the customary actions of a dog;
but what it was I couldn't imagine. The two enormous eyes came nearer
and nearer, moving to first one side and then the other, the animal
appearing to be unaware of my presence. When it approached to within
perhaps fifty yards of where I stood, I thought it was time to shoot,
and so cocking both hammers of my gun I blazed away, intending to fire
only one barrel and keep the other for an emergency. In my excitement
I must have pulled both triggers, as both cartridges went off with a
terrific bang. The recoil sent me sprawling on my back in the brush,
the gun jumping completely out of my hands and landing several feet
distant. The light was extinguished by the fall, and I lay there in
utter blackness. When I fired, the animal lunged into the thicket with
a crash, and in the confusion of my own affairs immediately following,
I heard no more sounds. I discovered that I had thoughtlessly come
away without a match, and being unfamiliar with the territory, had no
idea in which direction the house stood. Groping around in the dark
I finally located the gun and struck back into the brush in what I
supposed to be the direction I came. Presently I ran into a dense
jungle of terrible nettles, which the natives call _mala mujer_ (bad
woman). They are covered with needlelike thorns and their sting is
extremely painful and annoying. I was also covered with wood-ticks,
which added appreciably to my misery. It was cloudy and the night was
as dark as death. Realizing that I was on the wrong route it seemed
necessary to spend the night there, but I could neither sit nor stand
with comfort amid the nettles. After proceeding five or six hundred
yards through these miserable prickly objects (which in height ranged
from two to thirty feet, thus pricking and stinging me from my face to
my knees) I suddenly plunged headlong over a steep embankment into the
water, when I became aware that I had reached the river; but whether I
was above or below the house (which stands back about a thousand yards
from the river) I couldn't tell. After groping my way along under the
river bank for nearly half a mile, during the space of which I again
fell in twice, I concluded that with my customary luck I was headed
the wrong way, and so retraced my steps and proceeded along down the
river for nearly a mile, when I came to a landing-place. Leaving the
river I went in the opposite direction a short distance, and soon
bumped into some sort of a habitation. After feeling my way more than
half-way around the hut and locating an aperture (the door) I hallooed
at the top of my voice four or five times, and receiving no response
I ventured in only to find the place vacant. Returning to the open
I manœuvred around until I found another hut, where I proceeded to
howl until the natives woke up. I couldn't imagine how I was to make
myself understood, as of course they could not understand a word of
English. The man struck a match and seeing me standing in the door
with a gun in my hand, and with my face all scratched and swollen to
distortion from my explorations in the nettle patch, both he and his
wife took fright and jumping through an opening on the opposite side
of the room disappeared in the darkness, leaving me in sole possession
of the place. After groping around the room in vain search of a match,
and falling over about everything in the place, I returned to the open
air. Meantime the clouds had begun to break away and I could see the
dim outline of a large building a short distance beyond, which proved
to be the sugar-mill. I was now able to get my bearings, and discovered
that the hut from which the two people had fled was one of a number of
a similar kind which belonged to the place and which were provided free
for the workmen and their families that they might be kept conveniently
at hand at all times. I was not long in finding the main road leading
to the house, and when I arrived there everybody was asleep. After
fumbling around all over the place in the dark I found a match and
discovered that it was twenty-five minutes of three. Thus ended my
first deer-hunt in Mexico. In the morning I noticed the _zopilotes_
(vultures) hovering over the field in the direction I had taken the
night before, and upon going to the spot I found an enormous full-grown
jaguar lying dead about ten feet from the edge of the clearing. Several
shot had penetrated his head and body, and luckily, one entering his
neck had passed under the shoulder-blade and through the heart. The
natives said it was the only jaguar that had been seen in that locality
for years, and it was the only one I saw during the whole of my travels
in Mexico.
That morning it was discovered that every hut in the settlement at the
mill had been vacated during the night, and there was not a piece of
furniture or a native anywhere in sight; the place looked as desolate
as a country-graveyard. Later in the day we found the whole crowd
encamped back in the woods, and were told that during the night an
Evil Spirit in the form of a white man with his face and clothes all
bespattered with blood, had visited the settlement, and wielding a huge
machete, also covered with blood, had threatened to kill every man,
woman and child in the place. A few years prior to that an American had
been foully murdered at the mill by a native, who used a machete in
the operation, and this, they said, was the second time in five years
that the murdered man had returned in spirit-form to wreak vengeance
on the natives. It was more than three months before they could all
be induced to return to the houses. I cannot imagine what sort of an
apparition it was that molested them the first time. The frightened
native and his wife had doubtless returned and alarmed the others with
a highly exaggerated story, and gathering up their few belongings they
had fled for their lives. I told the foreman the circumstances, but he
strongly advised me not to attempt to undeceive them, because they had
a deepseated superstition about the mill, and no amount of explanation
would convince them that the place was not haunted by the spirit of the
murdered man, especially as this was their second alarm.
The peon class in Mexico are exceedingly superstitious and there is
scarcely an act or circumstance but what portends some evil in the
mind of one or another. About the only thing about which they have no
superstitious misgivings is the act of carrying off something that does
not belong to them.
Late one afternoon, while on a trip out through the country, we met
an American in charge of two Mexican soldiers (in citizen's dress)
who were returning with him to Tuxpam. They said he was a desperate
character who had broken jail while awaiting trial for murder. He
was seated astride a bare-backed horse and his legs were securely
leashed to the body of the animal, while his feet were tied together
underneath. His arms were tied tightly behind his back, and altogether
his situation seemed about as secure and uncomfortable as it could
be made. He was not allowed to talk to us, but the officers talked
rather freely. They said he had recently killed an officer who pursued
him after breaking jail. The poor fellow looked harmless and passive,
and had a kind, though expressionless, face. His eyes and cheeks were
deeply sunken and he showed unmistakable evidence of long suffering.
They had captured him by a stratagem, having overtaken him on the
road and pretending to be _amigos_ (friends) they offered to trade
horses with him. His steed being much fatigued he eagerly grasped the
opportunity to procure a fresh one, and as soon as he dismounted he
was seized and overpowered. The vacant and hopeless expression of the
prisoner as he sat there bound hand and foot, and unable to converse
with his own countrymen was indeed pathetic, and judging by his looks
we were convinced that he was not a hardened criminal. We therefore
determined to look him up on our return to town and ascertain the
facts. Three days later upon returning to Tuxpam we learned that soon
after we passed the party the officers had camped for the night, and
tying their victim to a tree had taken turns at guard duty during the
night. At about three o'clock in the morning the prisoner had managed
to work himself free from the bonds and while the officer on watch was
starting a fire to warm the breakfast for an early morning start the
prisoner pounced upon him and seizing his revolver struck him a blow on
the head which laid him out. At this juncture the other officer woke
up just in time to receive a bullet in his breast which despatched him
to the other world. Taking one of the horses the fugitive fled, and up
to the time I left Mexico he had not sent his address to the police
authorities; nor did any of them appear very anxious to pursue him
further. The officer who was first attacked came to his senses a little
later, but he was perhaps more interested in looking to his own comfort
and safety than in attempting to follow the fugitive, with the prospect
of sharing the fate of his fellow-officer. We were informed that the
prisoner had been a poor, hard-working, and law-abiding resident who
had migrated to this country from Texas several years before, bringing
with him his wife and one child. He had brought about $1,000 American
money, which had been sunk in a small farm near Tuxpam where he had
cast his lot, hoping to make a fortune. One night his home was invaded
by a couple of drunken natives who were determined to murder the whole
family on account of some imaginary grievance. In defending his family
and himself he killed one of them, and wounded the other, and next day
was cast into prison, where he was kept for almost two years--until his
escape--without an opportunity to have his case heard. Meanwhile both
his wife and child died of smallpox without being permitted to see him,
and were buried without his knowledge. It was reported that after his
incarceration his wife and child had moved into a hovel in town, and
that when the coffin containing his child's body was borne past the
jail on the shoulders of a native, en route to its last resting-place,
by a most singular and unhappy coincidence he happened to be peering
out through a small hole in the stone wall, and saw the procession. He
is said to have remarked to another prisoner that some poor little one
had been freed from the sorrows of life.
How any white man can survive two years' imprisonment in a Mexican jail
is beyond human comprehension; in fact we were informed that it is not
intended that one should. I heard it remarked that "if a prisoner has
plenty of money it is worth while hearing his case, but if he is poor,
what profit is there in trying him?" The judges and lawyers are not
likely to go probing around the jails merely for the sake of satisfying
their craving for the proper dispensation of justice. We were told by
one of the oldest resident Americans that if in the defense of one's
own life it becomes necessary here to take the life of another, the
safest thing to do is to collect such arms, ammunition and money as
may be immediately at hand and make straight through the country for
the nearest boundary line, never submitting to detention until the
ammunition is exhausted and life is entirely extinct. The filthiness
and misery within the walls of a Mexican jail exceed the powers of
human tongue to describe, and tardy justice in seeking a man out in one
of these Plutonic holes is generally scheduled to arrive a day too late.
With the exception of wood-ticks, the crop that thrives best of all
in this part of Mexico, all the year round, is grass. There are two
notable varieties; one is known as the South American Paral grass, and
the other as Guinea grass. Both are exceedingly hardy and grow to great
height. The Paral grass does not make seed in Mexico, but is generated
from the green plant by taking small wisps of a dozen or more pieces,
doubling them two or three times, after which they are pressed into
holes made in the ground with a sharp stick, much after the manner of
planting corn, and in rows about the same distance apart. Three or
four inches of the wisp is allowed to protrude above the ground. It
is generally planted thus in the latter part of May,--though at this
season the ground is very dry,--because when the rains begin everybody
is so busy planting and caring for the corn-crop that everything else
is dropped. As soon as seasonable weather begins the grass sprouts
and sends out shoots along the ground in every direction, much like a
strawberry-vine. From each joint the roots extend into the ground, and
a shoot springs up. By the early fall the ground is completely covered,
and by the first of January it is ready to pasture lightly. The growth
is so thick and rapid that it smothers the weeds and even many of the
sprouts that spring up from the stubs and stumps. I saw a small patch
of this grass that had been planted early in April when the ground was
so dry that it was impossible to make openings more than two or three
inches deep with the sharp-pointed sticks, as the holes would fill up
with the dry loose earth. This patch was planted by a native who wished
to test the hardiness of the grass, and with little expectation that
it would survive the scorching sun of April, May and a part of June,
until rain came. It was in May that I examined this patch, and pulling
up several wisps I did not find a single spear that had sprouted or
appeared to have a particle of life or moisture in it. But when the
rainy season commenced every hill of it sprouted and grew luxuriantly.
During the rainy season in the fall it will readily take root when
chopped into short pieces and scattered broadcast on the ground.
The Guinea grass is almost as hardy as the Paral, but is planted only
from the seed. It grows in great clusters, often to a height of six
feet, and soon covers the ground. These two grasses seem to draw a
great deal of moisture from the air, and stand the dry season almost
as well as the brush and trees. The cattle fatten very quickly on them
and never require any grain. Beef-cattle are always in good demand
at high prices, and there is no other industry so profitable here as
cattle-raising.
The deadly tarantula is as common here as crickets are in the United
States, but to my astonishment the natives have no fear of them, and I
never heard of anyone being bitten by one of these, perhaps the most
venomous of all insects. They abound in the pastures and live in holes
which they dig, two to four inches in the ground. One can always tell
when the tarantula is at home, for the hole is then covered with a web,
while if he is out there is no web over the hole. I have dug them out
by hundreds, and one forenoon I dug out and killed seventy-two, often
finding two huge monsters together. They sometimes bite the cattle when
feeding, and the bite is usually fatal. Their deadly enemy is the wasp
(_Pompilus formosus_) by which they are attacked and stung to death if
they venture out into the open roadway or other bare ground.
The most deadly reptile is the four-nosed snake; it usually measures
from four to six feet in length and from 2-1/2 to four inches in
diameter at the largest part, with sixteen great fangs, eight above
and eight below. They have the ferocity of a bulldog and the venom
of the Egyptian asp. The natives fear them next to the evil spirit.
The most remarkable feat of human courage that I ever witnessed was a
battle between an Indian workman and one of these snakes. In company
with a number of other workmen the Indian was chopping brush on my
place around a clearing that was being burned, and the snake sprang at
him from a clump of bushes as he approached it. The Indian struck at
the snake with his machete, at the same time jumping aside. The snake,
narrowly missing his mark, landed four or five feet beyond. Immediately
forming in a coil he lunged back at the Indian, catching his bare leg
just below the knee, and fastening his fangs into the flesh like a
dog. The Indian made a quick pass with his machete and severed the
snake's body about four inches from the head, leaving the head still
clinging to his leg. He stuck the point of the machete down through
the snake's mouth, and twisting it around pried the jaws apart, when
the head dropped to the ground. Four of the workmen and myself stood
within fifty feet of the scene, all petrified with amazement. The
Indian realizing that his doom was sealed stood for a moment in silent
contemplation, then walked directly to where the fire was burning and
picking up a burning stick he applied the red-hot embers on the end to
the affected part, holding it tightly against his leg and turning it
over and over until the flesh was seared to the bone. After completing
the operation he fell in a dead faint. He was carried to the house and
revived. His grit and courage saved his life, and in less than three
weeks he was at work again. I offered a bounty of one dollar apiece
for every snake of this variety killed on my ranch, and the natives
would form hunting-parties and look for them on Sundays and rainy days.
They were brought in in such numbers that I began to think the whole
place was infested with them, when presently I discovered that they
were killing and bringing them from all the surrounding country. They
were so cunning that they would bring a snake and hide it somewhere on
the place, then coming to the house they would announce that they were
going snake-hunting, and in fifteen or twenty minutes would march in
triumphantly dragging the snake, usually by a string of green bark.
There is in Mexico a small tree called _palo de leche_ (milk tree)
which produces a milk so poisonous that the evaporation will
sometimes poison a person at a distance of several feet. The smallest
infinitesimal part coming in contact with the mucous membrane of the
eye will produce almost instant blindness, accompanied by the most
excruciating pain. The only antidote known to the natives is to grind
up peppers of the most powerful strength--as strong as those of which
tabasco sauce is made--and pour the liquid into the affected eye. I saw
this distressing operation performed twice while in Mexico. The natives
naturally dread to encounter these trees when clearing.
There is an abundance of scorpions in Mexico. They are to be found
under rocks and logs, and particularly throughout the house. One
morning I found four snugly housed in one of my shoes. After putting
my foot into the shoe the instinctive promptness with which I removed
it from my foot reminded me of the army-ant episode when the boatmen
so hastily removed their shirts. In putting on my shoes after that I
learned to "shake well before using."