THE RUINS OF IXKUN AND THE PINE RIDGE.
On the 9th of March we set out again and lunched at midday under the
shade of the first pine-trees that we had seen since leaving the valley
of the Cajabon River, and two leagues further on we left the shade
of the forest for the open savannah of Poctum, a level plain covered
with beautiful pasture and dotted over with conical limestone hills
and clumps of pine-trees. The next day we crossed the Rio Machaquilá,
a swift and sparkling stream which bounds the savannah towards the
north, and then had a dreary ride along a forest-track, where the mules
plunged up to their girths in mud-holes, to the village of Dolores.
For the next fortnight Dolores was our headquarters while we explored
the ruins of Ixkun. I had heard of the existence of these ruins some
years before from the Jefe Político of Peten, but none of the villagers
in Dolores seemed to know anything about them. The Alcalde was inclined
to resent our inquiries, and clearly looked on us as suspicious
characters, until the perusal of my letter from the President calmed
his fears; he then promised to make inquiries himself and find a
"práctico" to guide us. There was really some difficulty in discovering
anyone who knew the way, but at last a "práctico" was found who was
sent off next morning in company with Gorgonio and Carlos. They
returned in the evening to report that the ruins had been found buried
in the forest about six miles to the N.N.W. of the village; not only,
they reported, were the mounds and carved monoliths completely hidden
from view by the rank vegetation, but over a great part of the site the
thick tangle of woody lianes was almost impenetrable. However we had
a force of twenty mozos, and next day they were set to work with axes
and machetes to clear away the undergrowth and smaller trees, and as
several cargoes of totoposte and frijoles arrived from Cajabon in the
course of the first week, there was no lack of food and the men worked
fairly well.
The small plain on which the ruins stand is almost surrounded by
low rough limestone hills, and although the forest is too thick to
enable one to speak with anything like certainty, I do not think the
buildings extend beyond the area of the plain. The plan of the ruins
is given on the opposite page. It could not have been a town of very
great importance, as the buildings are small and the masonry is of
an inferior class, but the sculptured monoliths and hieroglyphic
inscriptions show that it must have belonged to a good period.
[Illustration: RUINS OF IXKUN, GUATEMALA.]
The foundations on which the buildings were raised vary in height from
5 to 50 feet, and are composed of rough irregular blocks and slabs
of soft limestone; the interstices were probably filled up with mud,
and the surface faced with cement, but the cement facing has almost
entirely disappeared. The mud had been washed out by tropical rains,
so that now the foundations present the appearance of rough heaps of
unworked stone. At the south end of the plain is a natural hill which
has been partly terraced, and was probably ascended on the north side
by a stone stairway; on the top of it are two foundations supporting
the remains of stone houses. From the foot of this hill a sort of
roadway, with the remains of a low wall on either side, runs to the
principal group of buildings, and is continued on the other side of it
to a low hill on which the remains of a few other buildings were found.
I made an excavation on the summit of the mound marked =X= in the
plan, that disclosed the remains of a house or temple, of which a
ground-plan is given. Only two walls could be found, but there was
almost certainly an outer chamber, which is shown in dotted lines. Near
the middle doorway a rough unworked slab of stone was lying, which had
probably served as a lintel. The doorway in the back wall had been
blocked up after the house was built. The walls still standing are
about five feet high, and, from the position of the stone lintel above
the blocked-up doorway, I should estimate the original height of the
walls at a little over six feet. The cement floor of the house is still
in fair condition, and there are traces of a cement-covered platform
which ran round the outside of it. Some fragments of rough pottery were
found inside the house. No roofing-stones of the type used in Copan,
Tikál, and the other great ruins could be found, and I am inclined to
think that the very narrow chambers were roofed with flat slabs, and
some slabs which would have answered the purpose were found among the
debris. There are several carved monoliths which formerly stood on the
level ground in front of the buildings, but most of them are overturned
and partly destroyed. The only one in a fair state of preservation is
shown in the accompanying Plate; but this is one of great importance,
and we made a careful mould of it, from which a plaster-cast has been
made; this is now in the South Kensington Museum.
Two Maya priests or chieftains with elaborate head-dresses and
ornaments stand facing each other above a hieroglyphic inscription,
which commences with what I have called an "Initial Sequence," which
Mr. Goodman has proved to be a date. In the lower panels are two
unadorned crouching human figures, with their necks and arms bound
with ropes, evidently meant to represent prisoners trodden under
foot by the two gorgeously arrayed figures who stand above them. The
marked difference in physiognomy between the Mayas and their captives
is clearly shown, and this monument may celebrate the conquest of
the aboriginal inhabitants of the land or the defeat of some of those
barbarous invaders from the north whom some writers believe to have
finally caused the overthrow of the Maya civilization. It is also worth
noting that the Mayas carry only ornamented staves in their hands and
make no show of weapons of war. In one of the other partly destroyed
monuments a figure is represented carrying in his hand one of the
"Manikin sceptres," of which so many examples occur on the sculptures
at Quirigua.
For the first few days after setting the men to work I made only
occasional visits to the ruins, and spent most of my time in Dolores
working out the observations taken on the route; but as soon as
the clearing was sufficiently advanced to enable me to commence
measurements, I took up my quarters in the ruins under a rough shed of
palm-leaves, and remained there until our work was finished.
On the 24th of March we resumed our journey, and set out for Yaxché, a
small village about sixteen miles to the north-west of Dolores. After
travelling through forest for some hours along the divide between the
Pasion and Belize Rivers, we emerged on a savannah country studded with
innumerable low timber-covered hills. As we approached the village the
trees became scarcer, and both plain and hills were clothed with rough
grass. Here we stayed until the 5th of April, examining the ruins in
the neighbourhood and sending out expeditions to hunt for others, of
which reports had reached us, but our efforts at discovery were not
altogether successful.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: SCULPTURED MONOLITH AT IXKUN.]
About two miles to the north-west of Yaxché, on the banks of a
streamlet which runs to join the Rio San Juan, stand the remains of
a town of considerable size; but, as no signs of sculptured stones
could be found among the foundation mounds, we did not attempt to
clear away the thick undergrowth, but turned our attention to two
conical hills of natural formation standing up conspicuously about
eight hundred yards apart on either side of the stream. Both hills
were overgrown with grass, and each was crowned with a mound which
we thought must contain the remains of a building. We set to work
to dig into the mound on the summit of the southern hill, and, as we
expected, unearthed the remains of a small building facing north. The
walls were in some parts perfect to the height of six feet, and they
appear to have been built separately (as indicated by the shading in
the Plan). The entrance-passage and interior of the chamber were lined
with small well-wrought blocks of stone, but the material is so soft
that it could easily be cut with a knife. The floor had a covering
of cement, which was in good condition, and the outside of the walls
appears to have had a thick coating of the same material. A stone
lintel and a few slabs, which may have been used for roofing, and some
fragments of rough pottery were met with in digging out the debris.
Along the back of the chamber was a raised bench about two feet high,
and in the face of it was a niche about twenty inches by eighteen,
which was much smoke-stained and had probably been used for burning
offerings of copal. We also dug into the mound on the summit of the
northern hill, and with some difficulty were able to trace the walls of
a building which must have closely resembled its companion facing it
on the opposite side of the valley. On the broken floor of the chamber
we discovered portions of three earthen pots and some fragments of a
good-sized stucco figure. We were able to piece together two fragments
of a well-modelled face, which must have been about ten inches in
breadth, and to ascertain that the eyes had been made of obsidian.
[Illustration: PLAN OF TEMPLE.]
[Illustration]
Almost all round the ruined town there are numberless limestone hills
between fifty and three hundred feet in height, and at the top of
nearly every one of them are foundation-mounds or tumuli. In some
cases these foundations are merely outlined in rough stones, in others
they are flat oblong mounds, which may have supported buildings of
a perishable material. A common arrangement of the remains on these
hill-tops is given in the accompanying sketch. I opened one set thus
arranged. The mound A had probably supported a small "cue" or shrine;
a terrace ran in front of it, which was reached by a short flight of
steps. The total height of the mound was about sixteen feet, and the
level space on the top of it did not measure more than six feet by
four. We dug a trench right through this mound, and found traces of
interments and broken pottery within a few feet of the top, and below
this nothing but a mass of rough stones and earth. B, C, and D may have
been the foundations of small houses, but they also served as places
of sepulture, as we found in them traces of bones and broken pottery.
The four smaller mounds were tombs only. The vessels buried with the
bodies appear to have consisted of a flat dish and a round pot. The
body was probably seated with its knees doubled up, for we found the
fragments of bones all close together, and portions of the skull in
the midst of them. In one instance the skull, or rather the earthen
impression of it, was actually resting in the dish and the bones
lying around it, as though the body had been seated in the dish, and
as the skeleton had decayed the skull had sunk down through them. We
found three or four chipped stone lance-heads, a good deal of unworked
flint, but only two obsidian flakes. There were also a few pieces of
mealing-stones and a considerable quantity of potsherds showing traces
of yellow and black and red colouring. A little trickling stream at the
foot of the hills had evidently formed part of the water-supply of the
ancient inhabitants, for it was enclosed in a wall forming an irregular
oval about twenty-five by forty feet. On the level ground between the
hills we found several round holes about eighteen inches in diameter,
faced with plaster or stone, forming the mouths of small underground
chambers, which may have been intended for storage, or possibly were
used for vapour-baths.
[Illustration]
On the whole our excavations were unsatisfactory, and the hard work
of digging was rendered all the more unpleasant by a change in the
weather, which now became intensely hot and oppressive. We were
tormented when at work in the open ground by myriads of small black
flies, which crawled all over us and bit viciously. Great heaps of the
long grass were collected and set on fire in the hope that the smoke
would drive the flies away; but the smoke seemed only to attract fresh
swarms, and they danced in it in great columns, following it round
whenever the wind changed its direction.
We were now in the country where the Peten turkey (_Meleagris
ocellata_) abounds, and, as I wished to obtain a few good skins, I sent
out some of my men to shoot the birds, which can be most easily done
near the time of the full moon. There was no sport in the process,
which is as follows:--Setting out an hour before sunset the hunter
will post himself on the edge of one of the numerous thickets of trees
and shrubs which are scattered over the savannah and listen for the
cry made by the cock bird as he goes to roost; with good luck he may
be able to mark two or three of the roosting-places, and then, after
waiting, a prey to mosquitos and ticks, until the moon rises, he creeps
round to the trees from which the sound has come and takes a pot-shot
at the sleeping bird, whose body looms black against the moonlit sky.
In the daytime these birds are very shy, but I have several times come
upon them unexpectedly and have got a shot, and once succeeded in
getting two, right and left, both young birds and very good to eat. As
the hens do not call when going to roost, their skins are much more
difficult to obtain. Several attempts have been made to bring these
beautiful birds to England, but they have never survived the change of
climate for more than a few months. They are easily tamed and cross
freely with the domestic turkey, and some hybrids which have been
raised by Mr. Blancaneaux in British Honduras are extremely handsome,
having both the beautiful plumage of the wild bird and the conspicuous
wattles of the tame one. During our stay at Yaxché my men brought
in five cock birds, four of them with good skins, and we feasted
sumptuously on their bodies.
Before leaving the village we had an addition made to our party; one
of the Indians, when returning from work, shot a monkey, which fell
from the tree dead, and was found to have a baby clinging to its
breast. The poor little beast was uninjured, and was brought home to me
howling piteously; for the second time I had to be nurse to an infant
monkey, and I don't think any human child could have demanded more
attention. My first experience of nursing had occurred at the ruins
of Quirigua, where a baby monkey had been brought to me in much the
same way. It was so young that I had to feed it through a short piece
of india-rubber tubing cut from a photographic drop-shutter; however
it throve well, and, when not asleep in its box, it would spend hour
after hour clinging on to the upper part of my left arm with a firm
grip of its tail, and its little hands and feet buried in the folds of
my flannel shirt; but for its occasional demands for a caress, I could
go on with my work in the forest hardly conscious of its presence. At
the end of three weeks I had occasion to make a long journey in search
of more labourers, and I took my baby with me, intending to leave it
at the village of Quirigua in charge of a friendly old negress, whose
unfailing kindness to my men when they were ill had endeared her to us
all, and whose love for pet birds and animals was well known. Half an
hour after leaving the shelter of the forest on our way to the village,
I felt the little monkey suddenly relax his hold on my arm, and only
just managed to catch him as he fell. It had never occurred to me that
a monkey might suffer from sunstroke, but such was evidently the case.
He partly recovered consciousness before we arrived at the village,
where my kindly old friend Saturnina Alvarez made a comfortable little
nest for him, and he seemed to be on a fair way to recovery. Saturnina
brought him to the door the next morning when I was starting on my
journey; as I rode away he stretched out his thin little arms and cried
for me to take him. This was the last I saw of him, for I learnt on my
return that he had died within a few hours.
The new baby was a little older than my Quirigua pet, and could take
its food from a spoon, but unluckily there was not much food to be
had which suited him. However, I had heard that there was a company
of mahogany-cutters in the neighbourhood, and sent one of my mozos
to their temporary headquarters or "Monteria," which was distant two
days' journey, to try and buy a tin of condensed milk from their
stores. Running after ruins and sculptured stones was a sufficiently
incomprehensible proceeding to the Indian mind, but journeying for four
days to buy a tin of food for a juvenile monkey must have seemed an act
of sheer madness; when the order was given an expression of incredulous
surprise was visible on the usually stolid faces of my mozos, and I
believe that in their eyes it was the wildest eccentricity in which
I was ever known to indulge. The little beast soon became devotedly
fond of me, and my sympathy with mothers who have to bring up naughty
and querulous children has vastly increased. My baby gave me no rest;
he cried when he should have been quiet, and refused to be comforted
unless I nursed him to sleep in my arms; and he woke up at unseemly
hours in the night and demanded food. When we started on our journey
again there was some difficulty in knowing what to do with him, and he
protested strongly against the position assigned to him on the top of
the Indian's pack; whenever his bearer came within sight of me during
the journey the little fellow would hold out his tiny arms and clamour
for me to take him. I usually had to give in to him before the day's
journey was over, and then he would sit contentedly on my shoulder
with his tail round my neck crooning to himself; or if he were sleepy
would find his way inside my flannel shirt, as though he took me for an
organ-grinder. During one night, however, we had a serious difference
of opinion, and actually came to blows. He had been put to sleep in
his basket as usual, with his mosquito-curtain carefully arranged over
him, but he became uncomfortably restless and awoke again and again,
demanding food and attention, and tried to howl as though he were
grown up and had a fully developed thyroid cartilage through which to
trumpet. At last I determined to take no further notice of him, in hope
that he would tire himself out; but he turned the tables on me, and
finally, to ensure some sleep for myself, I had to take him into my
bed. By this time he was in a towering rage, and instead of going to
sleep where I placed him under the blanket, he dashed out and danced a
sort of war-dance on my chest, gesticulating fiercely. Then, after the
manner of nurses, I had finally to give him a good spanking, which only
made him angrier than ever; but he knew that he was beaten, he gave up
his war-dance and went to the bottom of the cot, covering his head with
the rug; then, like a naughty child, every few minutes he would raise
his head to boo-o at me, and then hide it again under the rug, until
at last, tired out, he fell asleep. It was a moonlight night, and for
some time longer I lay awake listening to the sound of the alligators
clashing their teeth--which sounds like a traveller's tale, but it is
not fiction. The river literally swarmed with these hideous creatures,
and they have a queer habit of a night of opening their mouths wide and
bringing their teeth together with a snapping sound which can be heard
for a long distance.
The journey from Yaxché to Benque Viejo took us from the 5th to the
11th of April, and was of no particular interest. We passed two ruins
on the way: the first, near Salísipuede, was of the Ixkun type, but
without sculptured stelæ; the second, near Takinsakún, was probably
of late date, as parts of some of the stone-roofed houses were still
standing, and the plaster covering the walls was in good condition.
These houses are of remarkable size--one measured 118 feet in length,
and contained two long parallel chambers running the whole length of
the house, each 9 feet wide and 16 feet 9 inches high.
Takinsakún is a name with a good Indian sound about it, but I have
sometimes seen it written in the Colonial Reports as "Take in Second."
With regard to Salísipuede (get out if you can), there is a local
tradition that the name marks the site of a "Monteria," which had to
be abandoned on account of the difficulty met with in floating the
mahogany logs down a small streamlet to the Mopan River. But the most
puzzling of all these frontier names is one within British territory;
the German map gives it as Arinchuak (Ar-in-chu-ak), which sounds like
a good enough Indian name, although I have not the slightest idea
whether it would have any meaning in an Indian dialect. On the other
hand, it is precisely the pronunciation given by the Creole negroes
to "Orange Walk," a village on the Belize River, and it is possibly a
repetition of that name; but whether the negro has Anglicized an Indian
name or the learned German has made a good-sounding Indian name out of
the negro pronunciation of Orange Walk, must be left to a philologist
to decide. Benque Viejo (Old Bank: this name again is a mixture, as
Banco and not Benque is the Spanish for Bank) is the frontier village
on the British side, and was an insignificant place when I passed
through it in 1882, but has now risen to considerable importance,
owing to the influx of Ladinos and Indians from the Guatemala side of
the boundary-line. Not far from the village on the left bank of the
river, within the Guatemala frontier, there is an important group of
ruined buildings, and several carved stelæ, but, unfortunately, all the
monuments are broken and much weather-worn. I was only able to give a
few hours to the examination of these ruins, and could not attempt to
make any plan of the many-chambered buildings, which I feel sure would
well repay further exploration. The next day we rode into the Cayo,
where I was hospitably received by Mr. Milson, the resident English
magistrate.
From the Cayo I sent off Carlos and José Domingo Lopez, with five or
six mozos, on an expedition to the ruins of Tikál (which lie hidden in
the forest about twenty miles to the N.E. of the Lake of Peten, four or
five days' march from the Cayo), with instructions to make paper-moulds
of the carvings on some small stelæ, of which I possessed no plaster
copies, although I had taken photographs of them during my visit to
those ruins in 1881 and 1882. I myself set about making arrangements
for a short journey into the unknown interior of British Honduras,
through what is called the Great Southern Pine Ridge.
It was not until the 23rd of April that I was ready to start with
Gorgonio and eight mozos, and accompanied by Mr. Blancaneaux, a
Frenchman, who, after fighting through the German war, had come out
to Belize, where he had for some time served as an inspector of the
Colonial Police, and had finally settled at the Cayo, where he occupied
his time in collecting natural-history specimens. Our first day's
journey took us up the Makál branch of the Belize River as far as
Monkey Fall, where we crossed the stream, and, leaving it on our right,
walked through the forest along an old Truck-path (as the temporary
roads in the forest are called along which the mahogany logs are
dragged to the river-bank), until we arrived at the little village of
San Antonio, where we passed the night. The next morning, continuing
our march in a S.S.E. direction for a little more than an hour, we
passed from the forest into a more open country, with occasional clumps
of oak and pine-trees; in front of us we could see a great stretch
of undulating country clothed with coarse grass, and for the most
part sparsely covered with pine-trees, which here and there formed
clumps and protected a scrubby undergrowth. During this and the next
day we crossed numerous clear and rapid rivulets which ran through
narrow strips of forest and thickets of "Camalote" (high reeds), or,
as we gradually rose to higher ground, spread over broad stony beds,
where the shrunken streams were half hidden amongst great granite
boulders. On the third day we reached the top of a range of hills known
as the Blue Mountains, and found that, by a very gradual ascent, we
had reached a height of 2600 feet. Here we found the air fresh and
invigorating, and we obtained an extensive view over the Pine Ridge,
which stretched away for about twenty miles to the north of us. From
the southern side of the hills we could see the Cockscomb Mountains,
about twenty-five miles to the S.S.E. We camped for the night on the
southern slope of the hills, about two hundred feet below our highest
point, and at 11 P.M. the thermometer stood at 65° Fahrenheit. The
Pine Ridge came to an end at the distance of two or three miles to
the south of our camp, and we could see the main branch of the Rio
Makál issuing from between the forest-clad hills which bounded our
view in that direction. These hills form the watersheds of the rivers
San Ramon and Machaquilá, as well as of some streams flowing into the
Gulf of Honduras, and are probably identical with the "Sierra de los
Pedernales," whose recesses have never been penetrated since Cortés and
his army lost their way among them in 1526, on the celebrated march
from Mexico to Honduras.
[Illustration: ON THE PINE RIDGE.]
I spent the morning of the 27th taking bearings and examining the
surrounding country through a field-glass. In the afternoon we set
out for the river which ran below us, scrambling down the hillside,
and cutting our way through patches of forest and camalote. The river
proved to be about fifty yards wide, and the water slowly flowed
through a succession of long pools with shallow rapids between them.
It was late when we made our camp on the edge of the Pine Ridge, a few
hundred yards from the stream, and a party of men was at once sent off
to cut a path down to the water and bring back a supply for the night.
As the men left the thicket on their return to camp, one of them,
wearied with the work of cutting his way through the camalote which
grew thick by the river's edge, threw his lighted torch into the reeds
and within a few moments the thicket was a mass of crackling flames.
Luckily for us the wind was in our favour and the fire was carried
swiftly along the river-bank to the westward. I turned into my cot and
slept soundly until about 4 A.M., when I woke to find that the wind had
changed and that the fire was rapidly coming down upon us. The camalote
immediately to windward of us had already been burnt up, but the thin
wiry grass which covered the Pine Ridge and grew to the height of one's
knees was as dry as tinder, and we could see in the distance some of
the pine-trees catching fire and blazing up as the long line of flames
swept past them. We were soon all of us at work firing the grass just
around the camp and beating it out again with green boughs torn from
the trees, until we had burnt a broad band round the camp, so that no
fire could reach us. It was a hot job and we all worked like niggers,
and must have looked nearly as black, from the smoke and ashes, before
we felt at all secure. Then as the burning edge of the grass was lost
to sight in a dip of the ground, and as the dawn had not yet come, I
turned into my cot again and woke later to find the sun shining and to
hear that the wind had again shifted just before the fire reached us,
so that the long line of flame was being carried away to the north.
During the next few days we passed the time in a way that a school-boy
fresh from Robinson Crusoe would have considered almost perfect, for we
attempted to make a raft and float our baggage down the stream, whilst
the mozos unencumbered with loads should cut their way through the
thickets that lined the banks. However, it was not a success, as the
following extracts from my scrappy journal will show:--"29th April. The
Pine Ridge is still burning to the N.E. of us. Have seen many tracks
of tapir and deer, but cannot catch sight of the animals themselves.
Started with the raft in the afternoon. Hard work hauling it over a
shallow rapid before putting the luggage on board. Rapids rather close
together. At the last rapid the raft caught on a snag and the food-box
went overboard: recovered with difficulty; biscuits all sodden.--30th
April. Lashed more cross pieces to the raft, and then gave each mozo
a small load to carry so as to lighten the cargo, but after a hard
day's work only succeeded in rafting about a mile and a half, and had
to unload the raft once in that short distance. Very hard work in
the shallow rapids: determined to abandon the raft. Shot many large
iguanas for the men to eat, and shot two large alligators, but could
not get them."
We found an alligator's nest on a small island in the river and the
mozos had a glorious supper off the thirty eggs we took out of it. The
nest consisted of a great pile of dry sticks, leaves, grass, and sand,
which the animal had scraped together to cover up the eggs, leaving
the ground swept bare for some yards around. Each egg had apparently
been covered up as soon as it was laid, and the last egg we took out
of the nest was buried an arm's length from the top of the pile. We
again came across the owner of the despoiled nest the next day, and I
got a shot at her; but although two rifle-bullets seemed to be well
placed she managed to get to the water and we had an exciting chase
after her, but in her dying struggles she sank into the water too deep
for us to fathom with our punting-poles, and we saw her no more. On the
bank of the river I found some traces of an ancient Indian settlement,
raised terraces, and the foundation mounds of houses, but the houses
themselves had disappeared and there were no monuments or sculptured
stones to be seen.
As our provisions were running short we turned northwards again on the
1st of May. The fire, which had run for many miles over the Pine Ridge,
had cleared off the high grass and made the walking easier; but we had
to be careful to avoid treading on the smouldering pine-logs which here
and there strewed the ground, and sometimes to give a wide berth to a
half-burnt tree which was likely to come down with a crash at the first
gust of wind. By the afternoon of the 4th of May we were back again at
the Cayo, and there I found Carlos Lopez and his party awaiting our
arrival, with a doleful story to tell me of their expedition to Tikál.
They had reached Tikál safely, but had met with no water to drink
during the latter part of their journey, and when they arrived at the
small lagoon near the ruins which had afforded us a supply during our
former visits, it was only to find that it was completely dried up.
There was nothing to do but to make the best of their way back again;
and their sufferings must have been severe, as for three whole days
they had nothing to drink but the driblets from the water lianes which
they could find along their track.
I paid off the mozos who had been to Tikál as soon as I reached the
Cayo, and that same evening they set off on their long journey home.
The next morning I told the remaining mozos, those who had been with
me in the Pine Ridge, to go to Benque Viejo, only about four leagues
distant, and bring back some baggage which we had left there, and that
on their return in the evening they should receive their wages and be
free to start for their homes. A considerable sum of money was owing
to them, for in addition to their back wages, by an agreement which
I had made with them, they were to receive double pay for the journey
into the Pine Ridge and the conveyance of the baggage from Benque
Viejo. However, they had seen their companions set off for Cajabon the
night before, and that sudden home-sickness to which they are subject
came over them, so they told me that they must start for their homes
at once. No verbal remonstrance was of any avail, so I arranged each
man's wages in a little pile and said that as soon as his load had
been brought to the house--which could easily be done before night--he
might take his pay and go; otherwise he would forfeit his wages, as he
had not fulfilled his contract. The men made little or no reply, but
filed sullenly out of the room and loafed about round the house until
the afternoon; then each man made a little bundle of his rug, hammock,
and other belongings and started off for home, leaving his hard-earned
wages behind him.
I was really in a very awkward fix, for arrangements had been made to
send all my baggage from the Cayo to Belize by water, but how to get it
from Benque Viejo to the Cayo was a question difficult to answer; there
were no other cargadores in the neighbourhood and no mules available,
and even if mules had been forthcoming the loads would have needed
careful repacking before they could have been fastened on pack-saddles.
However, through the kind offices of Mr. Milson, who was untiring
in his efforts to help me, I did succeed in getting hold of some of
the more important packages before starting for Belize, and made
arrangements for the disposition of the remainder.
But to return to the mozos. I had no intention of letting them go
unpaid, and although hoping to the last that they might change their
minds I had taken the precaution of posting a look-out on the road
beyond the edge of the village, and there they were stopped and brought
back to me, and each man was told to take the pile of dollars set out
for him on the table. I don't think there had been any misapprehension
on their part; the terms of the agreement had been fully explained
to them and had received their assent before we started for the Pine
Ridge, and they never even suggested that an injustice was being done
to them; it was merely the sudden longing for home which had come over
them on seeing their companions set out on the previous night which had
led them to risk the forfeit of two months' wages rather than endure a
day's delay.
On the 8th May I left the Cayo in a "pit-pan," a craft like an
elongated Thames punt, propelled by six paddlers, who sit right in the
square bow to ply their paddles, and in four days we arrived in Belize.
In 1882 I made the journey from the Cayo to Belize by land, a journey
which presents no difficulty to the traveller; but as in those days the
path was not too clearly defined, I engaged a local guide, my other
companions being Gorgonio and two Coban Indian carriers. One of our
two mules broke down during the first day's march, and as we had only
a short time in which to accomplish the journey we usually walked on
until midnight and then rolling our rugs round us lay down in the path
for a few hours' sleep. Both Gorgonio and I were in splendid condition
and felt little fatigue, and had our guide known the way we should have
finished the journey with time to spare, but he was always leading us
astray. On the last day, at nine o'clock in the morning, we were lost
in a mangrove-swamp within a few miles of the town of Belize, hunting
for the long trestle-bridge by which alone the swamp can be crossed,
and conscious that the steamer for New Orleans would leave Belize that
afternoon at three o'clock punctually. By good luck we at last stumbled
on the bridge, and mounting the sound mule I made the best of my way
to Government House. My old friend, Sir Frederick Barlee, whom I had
visited on my way to Guatemala, had had faith in my determination to
turn up in time for the steamer, and with a hearty welcome I found a
refreshing bath and a good luncheon awaiting me, and a boat ready to
take me off to the vessel. Police orderlies were sent off at once to
help Gorgonio and the carriers, who luckily came in sight just as the
steamer was blowing her whistle, and I carried off my luggage with me
in triumph, but it was a close shave.
[Illustration: ON THE BELIZE RIVER.]
The journey from the Cayo to Belize by the river presents no features
of interest; the scenery is monotonous and the rapids are not
dangerous. Although the river is navigable for canoes and pit-pans
at almost all times of the year, and supplies can thus be carried
in small quantities to the mahogany-cutters and other settlers on
its banks, a more satisfactory highway must be established if the
colony is to advance and prosper. There would be no great difficulty
in constructing a light railway from Belize to the Cayo, and I have
shown, in the account of my excursion into the great Southern Pine
Ridge, that a considerable elevation in an open and well-watered
country could easily be reached from the Cayo by a road which could
be cheaply made, and there can be no doubt that a sanatorium in such
a situation would be of inestimable value to residents in the colony.
It cannot be contended that Belize could ever become a pleasant place
of residence; the town is commonly said to be built on a foundation
of sand and mahogany chips, and the saying is almost true. A shallow
sea lies in front of it, and at the back it is cut off from the more
solid earth by a belt of half-drained mangrove-swamps; the streets
are bordered by broad ditches or canals and the ubiquitous cat-fish
is the principal scavenger, and in truth no more generally approved
sanitary arrangements are possible. Yet with all these disadvantages
the town is well ordered, clean, and healthy; and although it has been
from time to time visited by the terrible scourge of yellow fever,
this can generally be traced to some indiscretion on the part of the
inhabitants, such as the recent attempt to deepen the foreshore. Creole
negroes form the bulk of the population, and next in number are the
so-called Caribs, who have already been mentioned in connection with
Livingston. In British Honduras they have come under the influence of
the Jesuit Missions, and I believe that the whole race now profess some
sort of Christianity, although it is closely mixed with much of their
old heathen superstition; they still make periodic excursions to the
depths of the forests, there to celebrate certain rites on which none
but a Carib's eye is allowed to gaze. They are generally polygamists,
and when a man has built a house and cleared sufficient ground for a
plantation he leaves a wife in charge to look after its cultivation,
considering himself free to visit his other wives whom he has similarly
established on other parts of the coast, and to give his attention
to fishing and canoe-building and other forms of man's work. Their
beautifully-shaped doreys are to be seen all along the coast from
Yucatan to Nicaragua, and although not such bold deep-sea sailors as
the Creole negroes, they handle their canoes and doreys most skilfully
and are well acquainted with every reef, island, and inlet on the
coast. It is most curious to note how distinct they have kept from the
Creole negroes, no Carib woman ever being known (unless a change has
quite recently been made) to cohabit with a negro of another race. It
has always seemed to me that the exclusiveness of the Caribs and their
excellence as coasting sailors may be due to their having originally
been brought to the coast of Africa as prisoners of war from the banks
of some of the great lakes in the far interior, and to their thus
having no kinship with the tribes from whom the slaves were usually
captured, rather than to their supposed mixture with the Carib Indians
of the Island of St. Vincent.
Belize as a British Colony has rather a curious history. The mouth of
the Belize River was originally a haunt of buccaneers, and the very
name itself is said to be a corruption of Wallace or Wallis, one of
the most formidable of those pirates. Later on, as buccaneering was
abandoned, a settlement was formed there by wood-cutters, and the
little colony literally fought its way into recognition. Although the
Spaniards were loth to give up their claim to sovereignty in any part
of the New World, the Colony of British Honduras became an established
fact, and its boundaries have since been recognized by treaty with
Guatemala and Mexico. The Spaniards had never effectively occupied
the eastern side of the peninsula of Yucatan, and although from time
to time they established stations at Bacalar and even further south,
the Indians of those parts always regained their independence, and
beyond the British border they have kept it up to the present day. The
Yucatec newspapers never tire of writing about the "Guerra de Castas,"
the war of races, and inveighing against the iniquity of the English
colonists who trade with the Indians, and are alleged to supply them
with munitions of war. In reality these barbarous Santa Cruz Indians
have been as great a nuisance to the British as to the Yucatecans,
and both countries have suffered severely from their bloodthirsty
raids. I cannot help thinking that in recent years it has not been
the fighting strength of the Indians which has prevented the Mexicans
from conquering them once for all, and putting an end to the raids
and to the desultory warfare which--although there are really long
intervals of rest--is supposed never to cease. There may be truth in
the suggestion that the Mexican authorities found the war of races a
convenient excuse for keeping Federal troops in Yucatan, with one eye
turned to the frontier and the other on the Yucatecans themselves;
for Yucatan has not always been a very loyal member of the Mexican
federation. However, that has all changed now, for the very good
reason that the governing class in Yucatan has become rich and is not
likely to risk its wealth for the sake of independence, and general
improvements in communication have somewhat deprived Yucatan of the
safety derived from its isolated position. Meanwhile Mexico has become
better organized and infinitely more powerful, and it is to be hoped
that under the enlightened government of Porfirio Diaz an end may
finally be put to the "Guerra de Castas," and the Indians be brought to
submission and fair terms granted to them.
In the year 1881 I met the Santa Cruz chiefs in Belize, where they had
come to make their annual purchases of foreign goods. In a conversation
with them through an interpreter, I explained to them that the purpose
of my visit to Central America was to study the works of art of their
forefathers, and they very courteously asked me to visit them in their
own country, an invitation which I greatly regretted my arrangements
did not permit me to accept. When I passed through Belize again on my
way to Guatemala in 1883, I asked the Governor if the Indians were
still peaceably disposed, and if there was still a chance of visiting
them; and thereon hangs a tale. He replied that he thought everything
was favourable for such an expedition and that a very pleasant and
learned ethnologist, whom I will call Dr. X, had just been to see him
on the same subject, and no doubt it would be agreeable for us to
travel together.
Dr. X had gone out of town for a few days, so I was not able to see
him before my steamer sailed for Livingston; but I learnt that he did
not intend starting for the Santa Cruz country before April, and I
promised to write to the Governor should there be a prospect of my
getting through my work in Guatemala by that date, so that arrangements
could be made for Dr. X and myself to travel to Santa Cruz together.
However, later on, I had to write and say there was no chance of my
reaching Belize until the middle of May, and the expedition to Santa
Cruz must be given up. Earlier in this chapter I have told how hurried
was my return to Belize, and how nearly I lost the steamer, and it was
not until we were walking to the boat which was to convey me on board
that I asked the Governor how Dr. X had fared in his expedition to
Santa Cruz. He replied "Thank God, I have got rid of that fellow! I
found out that he had been concerned in the most abominable practices."
At that moment my baggage came up and I had no time to ask any further
questions even had it been discreet to do so, and although I was rather
mystified the matter passed out of my mind. On my return home, one of
my first visits was paid to my old friend Mr. Bates, then Secretary to
the Royal Geographical Society, and in the midst of his kindly greeting
he stopped short and said, "By the way, did you come across Dr. X?" I
said no, that he had already left Belize. "Thank God for that!" he
said, and then rapidly changed the subject. But now my curiosity was
fully aroused, and I wanted to know why everyone thanked God when Dr.
X departed; I told Bates how mystified I had been at the Governor's
last words to me and how nearly Dr. X and I were becoming travelling
companions. He shook me by the hand again and said, "Well you have
had a lucky escape; perhaps I had better tell you the whole story,"
which he did as follows:--Not long ago Dr. X came to me with good
introductions, and said he intended to visit Belize; he asked my advice
and assistance, and as he seemed a very well-informed and pleasant man
I gave him a note to the Governor. A few months later I had a visit
from the Colonial Office clerk, who asked me if I knew anything of the
whereabouts of Dr. X; and when he heard what I had to tell him, he
informed me that a Foreign Embassy in London had been in correspondence
with our Foreign Office regarding Dr. X's career. It appeared that he
had been travelling for some years in different parts of the world,
and as a cultivated and pleasant companion had been well received in
South America and elsewhere, but it had been noticed that his progress
was followed by most unaccountable deaths in the families or amongst
the households of his hosts, and although no actual evidence was
forthcoming against him, suspicion had grown so strong that he had more
than once to flee the country he was visiting. No sufficient motive for
crime could be adduced; for although it was said that he occasionally
borrowed money, or some article of which he had need, from his
newly-made friends and acquaintances, the sums were so small, and the
articles so insignificant, that his need of them might easily have been
the result of carelessness on his part, and could never have afforded
adequate motive for a series of cold-blooded murders. The theory
put forward by those who had known him was that he had discovered
the secret of some subtle and insidious poison with which he took a
maniacal delight in making experiments on his unfortunate companions.
However, the lack of tangible evidence and insufficient motive combined
prevented any proceedings being taken against him, but suspicion was so
overwhelmingly strong that it was a matter of urgent necessity to watch
his movements and future career. He had been lost sight of for a time,
but he was known to have expressed his intention of visiting some of
the English Colonies, and the Embassy wished to put the Colonial Office
on its guard. Poor Mr. Bates's feelings on learning that inadvertently
he had been assisting a possible fiend may be more easily imagined than
described, and he was greatly relieved at my news that Dr. X had left
the Colony before any evil had been done. I heard nothing more of Dr. X
and his doings until a year or two later, when the following incident
occurred:--I was sitting one morning in the verandah of the house of
a consular officer in Guatemala when the foreign mail came in, and
my host, leaving me to read the newly-arrived newspapers, went off to
look through his correspondence; presently he returned, and after some
remarks about the news of the day, casually produced a photograph from
amongst some papers he held in his hand, and said, "Do you know this
man?" I looked at the rather indifferent photograph and said, "No,
I don't think I have ever seen him; who is he?" He said it was the
portrait of a foreigner who was travelling about here some time ago,
and changing the subject he turned to walk away towards his room. Then
with a sudden memory I called after him, "Oh! that is a portrait of Dr.
X, isn't it? is he in this country?" Of course explanations followed,
and I learnt that the Doctor was still on his travels, and that as
there was some idea that he might visit Guatemala, directions had been
sent to ensure a careful watch on his movements. From that day to this
I have heard nothing of Dr. X, and can only hope that if he had been
trying more interesting experiments he may have tried them successfully
on himself.
[Illustration: CARIB WOMEN.]