LAGUNA AND THE RIO USUMACINTA.
In December 1890 I crossed the Gulf of Mexico from Vera Cruz to
Progreso in one of the Ward Line Steamers, and was then transhipped
into a coasting-boat belonging to the same company, which was to take
me to Frontera, at the mouth of the Tabasco river, whence I was to
find my way up the stream, and inland to the ruins of Palenque. Never
did I put to sea with such misgivings: it was still the season of the
'Norte,' the fierce cold wind which sweeps down the Mississippi Valley
and across Texas from the frozen lands of the North, and the vessel in
which I was embarked was a stern-wheel river-steamer, with seven feet
of hull under the water and twenty feet of cabins and flying-deck built
up above it! The captain owned to me that he had been very nearly blown
over on his last voyage down the coast, and that should he be caught
in really bad weather there would be no alternative but to turn the
ship's head to the shore and pile her up on the beach. Of course this
stern-wheeled barge was provided with all the orthodox certificates
from a wise and protecting government, drawn up in beautiful official
language, to the effect that she was a vessel properly fitted and
equipped to trade between certain ports of the United States and the
ports in the Mexican Gulf. When on the third or fourth day out we
crossed the bar and anchored off the little town of Laguna, on the Isla
del Carmen at the eastern edge of the Tabasco delta, the sky was so
threatening, that I deemed discretion the better part of valour, and
took all my traps ashore, determining to start up the river from Laguna
instead of Frontera; and the captain endorsed my view of the weather by
not venturing out of port for three days.
It was now the middle of the wood-shipping season, and Laguna was at
its busiest: about twenty-three sailing-vessels--English, American,
Swedish, and German--were lying off the town, and one might say roughly
that twenty-three mates were feeling very hot and using strong language
as the mahogany logs, which had been floated down the great river,
were detached from the rafts alongside and hauled on board, and that
twenty-three sea-captains were on shore on the spree.
My lodging was in the main street, at the house of a Frenchman, who
also kept a sort of restaurant. Here I managed to secure a room to
myself; but as one door opened on to the pavement of the street and
another into the sitting-room, which also opened on to the street, and
everyone seemed to walk in and out just as they felt inclined, I did
not secure much privacy.
It did not take long to become acquainted with the principal
inhabitants of Laguna. Two or three sea-captains dropped in to dinner,
drinks were freely offered, and I was soon introduced to all their
friends. Three-card Monte began, as far as I could make out, about
nine o'clock in the morning, but I am not sure that in some cases it
was not a continuation of the game of the night before. Play went on
anywhere, sometimes with a table and chairs set out in the street; but
the principal resort for gambling was the club. I never found out that
any election, or even introduction, was needed to enjoy the privileges
of that institution. Anyone seemed to wander in, order drinks, and
play. There were three or four professional gamblers, who had come for
the season, always ready to keep a bank as long as anyone had a dollar
to stake; and I must add that the game seemed to be perfectly fairly
conducted, with, of course, certain chances in favour of the bank, and
that I never heard the slightest dispute which was not settled at once
and quite amicably. Now and then a rough-looking man wandered in in his
dirty shirtsleeves, and one wondered how he had become possessed of
the big pile of dollars which he placed in front of him and doubled or
lost with equal good temper and nonchalance. The money was probably the
result of nine months' hard work on the river or at the wood-cuttings.
On three nights in the week the military band played in the plaza,
which was well kept and planted with shade-trees. The band-stand was
in the centre, and on the broad walk round it circled the beauty and
fashion of the town, gorgeously arrayed. Two or three girls usually
walked together arm in arm in front of the father and mother, or more
often the mother and some lady friend, for the men, more especially the
young ones, don't care much for the promenade, but prefer to sit round
on the stone benches, smoke cigarettes, and criticize. It appeared to
be quite contrary to custom or to fashion to talk to one's young lady
friends in public--that was to be done by stealth later on at the iron
'reja.'
On the other nights of the week society was not so formal, and the
Spanish lady had to give way to the apparently more attractive Mestiza.
One can generally tell from the flare of torches where a fandango is
going on, usually in one of the large wooden houses just off the main
streets. Here the Mestiza comes out in all her glory; and very pretty
she looks in her spotlessly white petticoats and low cut camiseta, each
garment very prettily embroidered along its edges. Alas! these white
and coloured borderings are now machine-made and bought in the stores,
and are no longer the work of her own delicate little hands. Her smooth
black hair is combed straight off her forehead, and fixed at the back
with a large gilded comb; she wears large gold earrings, and if she is
prosperous two or three coloured bead and golden necklaces round her
neck.
It always seems to me as if all the sorrows of the race had sunk into
the Mestizas' eyes; even when the face breaks into a smile it is a sad
smile, and in the dance it is the men who grow active and excited and
echo the passionate dancing of Spain, whilst the women are graceful
but slow in movement, with downcast eyes, as though to mark the Indian
side of the mixed blood. Of course there is a drinking-shop attached to
the dancing-room; but it is pleasanter outside in the roadway, where
the old women have lit their lamps under the trees and set up their
supper-tables and stalls of food and fruit, and where the light does
not fall too strongly one hears a low murmur of voices and occasionally
a little cry of protest. And now my friends the sea-captains are in
their element: they keep the barmen hard at work opening numberless
bottles of lager beer; they lead out the prettiest of the dancing
girls, not always to the satisfaction of their duskier partners, and
feast them to their heart's content on all the dainties which the old
women's stalls afford, whilst they keep up a conversation in the most
wonderful jargon of broken Spanish and scraps of every other language
under the sun.
For the first three days Laguna was amusing enough; it was not a
highly moral atmosphere, but the surroundings were quaint and often
picturesque, and my sailor friends were full of good stories and
strange experiences: but before the end of a week I fled at the sight
of a sea-captain, so as to avoid the inevitable drink which followed a
meeting, and in spite of the heat of the afternoon sun I explored every
road leading out of the town. Uninteresting enough they all proved to
be, for after passing the suburbs which began with the white-washed
adobe walls and thatched roofs of the houses of the Mestizos and ended
in wattle huts bowered in shady trees and cocoanut-palms, I was always
brought to a stop by the surrounding swamp. At last I settled down to a
daily walk to the lighthouse on the point and a long stretch over the
sandy beach, which was pleasant enough when the breeze was blowing and
kept off the swarms of sand-flies; but sometimes the wind dropped, and
then I wished myself back even in the stifling sun-baked streets of
Laguna.
During the last part of the two weary weeks I had to pass in the town,
much of my time was passed in the Custom House. Orders had come from
Mexico to pass all my stores free of duty; but this did not prevent the
Custom House officers opening every case and weighing the contents,
and making out endless lists with gross and net weight and much
unnecessary detail, to ensure, as I was told, the unquestioned passage
of the goods into the State of Chiapas, but to a great extent, as I
believe, to satisfy their own curiosity as to what the cases contained,
and to give employment to the superabundant clerks who draw salaries
and tumble over one another in all Spanish-American ports. At last my
preparations were finished: Mr. Price, who had volunteered to come out
from England and assist as a surveyor, had joined me, and I had secured
a small steamer belonging to Messrs. Jamet y Sastre, a firm engaged
in the mahogany trade, to take us up the river. In Laguna I had made
the acquaintance of M. Chambon, a young Frenchman who was travelling
through Mexico, and asked him to accompany us, as he wished to make his
way to Tenosique, in hope of being able to pay a visit to the ruins of
Menché.
As usual there was some delay in starting, and after we had crossed
the big lagoon and passed through the narrow passage into the smaller
one our troubles began. We had missed the top of the tide and found
it running out strongly against us and we stuck on one sand-bank
after another; at last we reached the mouth of the river, where
huge alligators lay sunning themselves on the sand-spits, and here,
where the stream was at its narrowest, we stuck fast; there was no
chance of getting off until the tide rose on the morrow. Then began
a night of torment. The mosquitos were monsters and they came off to
us in myriads: we had no nets to protect us against their attacks,
and the only thing to be done was to roll one's self up in a rug in
a beddingless bunk and swelter until morning. Soon after sunrise we
were afloat again and entered the broad stream of the river. The land
was still low and there was not a hill in sight, but gradually the
banks grew firmer and lost their swampy appearance. A short distance
above the village of Palisada, which we passed before dark, the river
divides in its downward course, the other half of the stream flowing
to the west and reaching the sea below Frontera. Above this fork the
Usumacinta is a fine broad stream, sometimes more than half a mile from
bank to bank. On the third day we reached the little village of Monte
Cristo, which was to be our starting-place for the ruins of Palenque;
and here we parted from M. Chambon, who continued his voyage in the
steamer to Tenosique.
At Monte Cristo we fell into good hands: Don Carlos Majares, who
kept the largest of the two or three village stores, gave us a big
shed in which to house our baggage and hang up our hammocks, and he
and Don Adolfo Erezuma did their best to help us on our way, but the
difficulties could not be overcome in a hurry. The ruins of Palenque
lay buried in the forest forty miles away, and as pack-mules and
carriers were equally scarce nearly a fortnight passed before we had
succeeded in despatching the most necessary part of our stores to
Santo Domingo, a village six miles distant from the ruins. Although we
had much repacking and arrangement to occupy us, the time hung heavy
on our hands. The climate was an improvement on that of Laguna, and
although we could see the storm-clouds still hanging over the country
inland, the rain seldom reached us. The river which rolled by us in
magnificent volume of water stretching from bank to bank began to
show slight signs of decrease, and the muddy channels joining it to
the numerous lagoons which received its overflow in the rainy season
were already drying up. The pleasantest time of the day was the hour
before sunset, when I used often to stroll quietly along the bank of
the river or edge of the lagoons and swamps, wherever the country was
sufficiently open, carrying with me a strong field-glass, through which
to watch the innumerable aquatic birds feeding or at play. White and
slate-coloured egrets would perch in the branches of the trees near to
the shore of the lagoon, beautiful little parras ran with their long
toes spread out over the water-weeds, raising their wings as they moved
just enough to show the brilliant yellow colour underneath against
their cinnamon-coloured bodies; a few ducks, teal, and divers would be
swimming in the open water, and great crane-like birds stalked about
looking for their food; but most beautiful of all were the great flocks
of rose-coloured "chocoloteras," spoon-billed wading-birds as big as
cranes and more brilliant than flamingos. They were not very quick to
take fright, and now and then I could so manage that a flight would
pass in long line close overhead, and I could watch them until they
faded from sight in a sunset sky.
One day we hired a dug-out canoe from a man who was also the possessor
of a casting-net, and set off at dawn on a fishing-expedition. After
paddling and poling up the river for about a league, we came to the
mouth of a small stream with muddy banks half hidden in giant reeds. A
few hundred yards from its mouth the stream broadened out into a pool
about eighty yards long and forty wide, and here I counted sixteen
alligators, some sunning themselves on the bank, others basking on the
top of the water. Our canoe-man kept straight on, as though alligators
were of no account, and the great brutes on the bank slid down into the
water as we approached, while those floating gradually and silently
sank out of sight--first the bulk of their bodies disappeared, leaving
above the water what looked like a long row of black spines along the
back and tail, then one by one these went down, the last to go under
being the nostrils and wicked-looking eyes. We were not so kind to the
alligators as they had been to us, for as soon as we were across the
pool we landed in the mud and forced our way through the reeds to get
a shot at them as they rose; but after a few shots we gave it up, as
those that were hit made a great splash and sank, and the water was
so muddy there was little chance of recovering their bodies. Paddling
up the stream a short distance, we came to a fence of logs and reeds,
through which we made a hole large enough to push the canoe and then
closed it up after us. These fences are intended to keep the fish which
swarm up into the lagoons during the rains from passing back into the
river. By the end of March both stream and lagoon would be dried up
into a number of rapidly dwindling pools and the fish would be easily
captured. Above the fish-fence the stream was only a few yards wide,
and here our canoe-man began to cast his net: in a quarter of an hour
we had about two hundred mountain mullet, weighing from a quarter to
half a pound each, in the bottom of the canoe, well covered over with
reeds to keep them from the sun. As we knew that the lagoon could not
be far off, we made an effort to reach it, but the waterway was so
narrow that it was not easy to work the canoe; the banks were high and
muddy and overshadowed by trees, and at almost every turn in the stream
a startled alligator rolled off the bank with a splash and dived down
under us. At last the water shallowed and we stuck fast; so leaving
the canoe we scrambled through a narrow belt of scrub and gained a
view over the broad sheet of shallow water, whence great flocks of
wading-birds disturbed at their morning meal rose with discordant cries
into the air.
At last the day came that we were able to make a start for Palenque:
Don Adolfo had lent us horses for ourselves, and four or five wretched
pack-mules carried part of the baggage. Luckily for us some half-dozen
Indians from the Sierra had just paid their yearly visit to Monte
Cristo to sell their cargos of wild cacao and buy machetes and a
supply of salt, and, as their return loads were not heavy, after much
persuasion they agreed to carry some of our things, and it was to
their care that we had to confide our surveying instruments and such
articles as could not safely be put on a mule's back. As the Indians
had all been hopelessly drunk the night before, we did not get off
very early, although our efforts to start commenced before dawn, and
what with bad mules, sulky muleteers, and half-drunken Indians we had
a hard day of it. The track was in a bad state from recent rains, and
a long detour had to be made in order to avoid some deep mud-holes.
Towards evening we found ourselves in a large savannah far away from
Palenque, with the pack-mules dead-beat and the Indians stopping and
putting down their loads whenever one's back was turned. At last we
could get them no further, and had to leave them to camp by themselves
while we pushed on in the moonlight, trusting that the path we were
following would lead us to the cattle-rancho which we believed to be on
ahead of us. Cattle-tracks ran in all directions, and we never knew if
we were on the right one. At about nine o'clock we saw the glimmer of
a light and riding towards it were civilly received at the rancho by
some wild-looking vaqueros, half negro, half Indian, who quieted their
evil-looking dogs, and carried their hospitality so far as to offer us
a share of the big log bench covered with bullock-skins, on which some
of their companions were lying asleep; luckily we had our hammocks with
us, and, after making some soup, turned in utterly tired out.
About noon the next day we arrived at Santo Domingo, and with some
difficulty managed to hire an empty hut--it was hardly worthy of the
name of house--as a lodging-place. This sleepy little village of twenty
houses lies so far out of the world that it was strange to find the two
inhabitants of most importance to be one the son of a Frenchman, the
other the son of a Swiss doctor, and the latest addition to the society
to be a Corsican, who, although his poverty forced him to live the life
of the poorer class of native, had not yet lost all his energy and was
wildly excited about some minerals which had been found in the sierra,
on which he was building golden hopes of a return in riches to his
own country. Alas! the specimens with which he loaded my boxes on my
return home proved to be nothing but valueless pyrites, and I fear the
sandalled feet of the cheery fellow still tread the grass-grown street
of Santo Domingo.
As the track to the ruins was, we were told, entirely overgrown, our
first business was to get it cleared, so I made play with a letter
from the Minister of Foreign Affairs in Mexico, which recommended
me to the attention of all local officers; by this means I managed
to secure a few labourers until arrangements could be made with the
higher authorities for a regular supply of workmen. My letter to the
Governor had already been despatched from Laguna, but as he lived at
San Cristóbal, a week's journey distant, it would be still a few days
before his answer would reach me; meanwhile a messenger was despatched
to the Jefe Político, who lived nearer and could be reached in three
days.
As soon as this matter had been seen to, we made a prospecting journey
to the ruins on foot; the distance was about six miles, and for the
first half of it the track ran through woodland which from time to time
had been cleared for plantations, then we crossed two small savannahs
and entered on a heavier forest which envelops the ruins and clothes
the sierras above. Half a mile before reaching the ruins we began
the ascent of the broken limestone cliffs and slopes which form the
scarp of the plateau, or rather the series of terraces, on which the
buildings are raised, and we were soon scrambling over mounds of broken
masonry, so thickly covered with vegetation that it was with difficulty
they could be distinguished from the rocky ground around us. As yet, no
buildings had been in sight, when all of a sudden we were brought to
a standstill by the lofty basement of the so-called Palace. We spent
the rest of the day in cutting our way through the tangled growth which
surrounds the buildings, and returned to the village in the evening
well satisfied with what we had seen. Before the end of a week the
track to the ruins had been cleared, and Mr. Price had engineered
log-bridges over the muddy-banked streamlets which crossed the path,
so that pack-mules could pass in safety, and we prepared to leave the
village and take up our quarters in the Palace. Just as we were ready
to make a start M. Chambon turned up from Menché, and we all set off
for the ruins together. The road was in fairly good order, although
somewhat muddy. On arriving at the ruins we tied up our mules at the
foot of the Palace mound and set to work to carry up the baggage and
arrange our beds and camp-furniture in the house on the west side of
the Eastern Court, which was chosen as the driest place to be found.
The mozos had already done something towards clearing the house
of rubbish and cutting away with their knives the rank vegetation
immediately around it. When I used the word 'driest' it was only as
a term of comparison, for the house was anything but dry. The great
forest around us hung heavy with wet, the roof above us was dripping
water like a slow and heavy rainfall, and the walls were glistening and
running with moisture, so that it took us some time to select places
for our beds, where the drip was lightest, and then to protect them
with waterproof coverings. An hour before sunset the mozos set out on
their return to the village, taking the mules with them, and we three
were left to make the best shift we could in our damp abode.
Day by day, as the vegetation was cleared away and the sunlight let in
on it, our house became drier and some of the discomfort disappeared;
then there came the repetition of the old old trouble, which has
haunted me since my expeditions began--a message was sent from the
village that no mozos could come to work for some days on account of a
fiesta. There was no help for it, so I determined to use the time in
a journey to Monte Cristo, to arrange for the transport of the rest
of my baggage which was still stored there, and I started off with M.
Chambon, who was continuing his travels through Mexico. We slept the
first night at Santo Domingo, where we engaged a muleteer and some
pack-mules, and set out the next morning very lightly loaded and hoped
to arrive early at Monte Cristo; but before many hours were passed we
had completely lost patience with the continual stoppages and delays
on the part of the surliest and most ill-mannered arriero it has ever
been my fate to encounter, and a friend whom he had picked up on the
way. At last we could stand them no longer and rode on by ourselves,
preferring our somewhat doubtful chance of finding the shorter road to
Monte Cristo, along which we intended to travel; however, it turned out
all right, and a little after dark we rode into the village, where Don
Carlos gave us a most kindly welcome and offered us the use of our old
quarters.
In front of Don Carlos's house an awning had been stretched across the
grass-grown street, and a wooden floor laid down to form a ball-room
for the villagers, for the morrow was Shrove Tuesday, and we learnt
that in Monte Cristo the Carnival is a matter of no small importance.
All was quiet when we arrived, but we were told that dancing had been
kept up the night before from dusk to dawn, and we had hardly finished
our supper when the company began to flock in to resume the revels. The
wooden steps of the house formed seats on one side of the floor, chairs
and benches were set round on the others, and every seat was soon
occupied, whilst a happy crowd--smoking, chatting, and laughing--filled
up the street. Then the band of six musicians, three of them performers
on the most strident of brass instruments, struck up a Zapateado, and
dancing began. Zapateado followed Zapateado with scarcely an attempt
at any other dance, and I seem in writing of it to hear the monotonous
rhythmic clatter of the dancers' feet still in my ears. How can a
Zapateado be described? It is something like a prolonged Scotch reel
with all the flings left out, but, indeed, any part of a Scotch reel
is too cheerful to compare it with. However, if the dancing was dull
the scene in itself was bright enough, for all were dressed in their
best, and the women had decked themselves freely with streamers of
bright-coloured ribbons; but, alas! they had spoilt costumes which
were otherwise picturesque by the addition of hats covered with tawdry
artificial flowers imported from abroad, and disfigured the one beauty
which a half-caste woman can always boast--her abundant and glossy hair.
The "Capitana," a handsome woman who had been elected to lead the
revels, soon spied us out and came with her attendants to ask for
a contribution to the expenses. By eleven o'clock both Chambon and
I had seen enough of the dancing, and our forty-mile ride, made
doubly tedious by our futile efforts to drive the pack-mules, and our
squabbles with the arriero, had so tired us out that not even the
brazen strains of the band or the constant patter of the dancers' feet
twenty yards from our door could keep us from a sound night's sleep.
I woke up at dawn just as the ball was breaking up, and turned over in
my hammock for another nap, confident that no business arrangements
would be attended to on that day. Indeed all day long the streets were
deserted and the village hushed in a more than Sabbath calm. For two
nights the dance had been kept up all night through, and one more night
would finish it. It is the one great excitement of the year, and I was
told that the women would pledge their labour as servants for months
ahead in order to raise a few dollars with which to buy ribbons and
artificial flowers--so as to enjoy three days of butterfly-life, to be
inevitably followed by month after month of the monotonous labour of
grinding corn and toasting tortillas, until the three happy days came
round again. Towards evening the village began to wake up again, but
the weather was threatening and a shower delayed the arrival of the
company until about eight o'clock; then the same monotonous dance and
the same terribly strident music began again. Escape was impossible,
for there was absolutely nowhere to go to, so we strolled about, smoked
cigarettes, and chatted with our acquaintances on the steps of Don
Carlos's house until midnight, when we turned into our hammocks; but
the braying of the brass, the ceaseless repetition of the same tunes
over and over again, and the interminable patter of heel and toe on the
hollow board floor made sleep impossible. A little after four o'clock
I fell into a doze only to be aroused again by the arriero hammering
at the door and asking for the loads for his mules. He was as impudent
and surly as ever, and had evidently joined in the festivities as far
as the drink was concerned; but I gave him his cargoes and told him to
load up and go on ahead, as I had still some matters to arrange before
I could start for the ruins. The dance was still going on although
the dawn was breaking and the music of the band was getting woefully
unsteady.
Chambon and I turned out of our hammocks about six o'clock, and were
only half-dressed when the music ceased, and there came a thundering
knock at the door. As soon as I opened it three or four of the dancers
pushed their way in, and their spokesman told me, in a most polite and
measured tone, that they had been appointed as a deputation to wait on
me and inform me that a resolution had been unanimously carried to the
effect that the Carnival could not be finished until Don Alfredo had
danced a Zapateado.
Meanwhile laughing faces were thrust through the crack of the door,
which almost before we knew it was pushed open and the dancers and
their friends flocked in and ranged themselves round the walls of our
great barn-like chamber. The band took up its position at the far
end and with much gravity and a low bow the spokesman led out the
"Capitana" in front of me where I was standing with a sponge in one
hand and a towel in the other; another damsel was led up to Chambon,
who had his night garments hanging over his arm; the band struck up and
we had to dance our first Zapateado amidst a chorus of hand-clapping
and 'bravos.' It was all as orderly and good-tempered a frolic as
possible, and when the dance was over we were overwhelmed with kindly
and pretty speeches; then the whole company formed up in couples, with
the band leading, and marched round the village, each man leaving his
partner at her own door.
An hour or so later I strolled up the village street, and much to
my disgust found the loaded pack-mules wandering about in different
directions, and the arriero, who should have been well on his way to
Palenque, quietly sitting on a doorstep smoking a cigarette. In spite
of his grumbles and growls I soon had his mules together again and
hustled him off; but just as he was passing the Comandante's house, at
the edge of the village, he fired a parting speech over his shoulder at
me, the exact words of which I did not catch, but it was certainly not
complimentary. However, I took no notice of it and was congratulating
myself that the mules were well under weigh, and that I should see
nothing of them or the surly muleteer until I should overtake them in
the evening; but I reckoned without the Comandante, who had overheard
the speech from his house, and before I could understand what was up,
had darted out, caught the arriero by his collar, pulled him off his
mule, and called to two of his men to carry him off to prison. As soon
as the torrent of words with which he overwhelmed his prisoner was at
an end, he turned to me and offered a thousand apologies for the insult
I had received from a savage, a bushman, who did not know how to treat
a gentleman, or how to conduct himself with decency when he left his
native wilds and entered into a civilized town, but the lesson must be
learnt and an example should be made of him. Of course I expressed my
profound thanks and then dashed off to catch one of the pack-mules who
was attempting to scrape off his pack against the overhanging bough of
a tree, whilst the Comandante, having vindicated the civilization of
Monte Cristo, returned to his hammock to finish his broken sleep. All
hope of making a start for Palenque was at an end, so I collected the
straying mules together and drove them back along the silent street.
Luckily Don Adolfo, the only man in the village who had not been to
the Carnival ball, was up and about, and he kindly helped me to unload
the mules, and then asked me to stay and share his breakfast. In
the afternoon the villagers began to wake up again, and there was a
preliminary interchange of courteous messages between myself and the
Comandante; later on I ventured to call on him, and after many polite
speeches, in which we deplored the wanton ways of ignorant and savage
men who were not "gente de razon," at last in deference to my urgent
request (which I was assured showed the goodness of my heart even
when dealing with an unworthy subject), and in order that I should
personally suffer no inconvenience, the Comandante said that he would
on this one occasion overlook the arriero's offence and order his
immediate release. As soon as the fellow was free I made him load up
his mules and bundled him out of the village, as I knew that there
was a wayside rancho a few miles distant which he could reach before
nightfall.
[Illustration: PLAN OF PRINCIPAL GROUP OF RUINS AT PALENQUE.]
I accepted Don Adolfo's hospitality for the night, and was ready to
set off early the next morning on a good horse he had lent me; but
Don Carlos and Don Adolfo had put their heads together and agreed
that it was out of the question that I should ride the forty miles to
Santo Domingo alone, saying that I was sure to lose my way amongst the
numerous cattle-tracks; they had been so uniformly kind and courteous
to me, that, although I was fairly certain I could find the path, I
felt obliged to give way to their wishes, and endure a further delay
whilst a guide was being found for me. At last all was arranged and by
eight o'clock we set off, and as we journeyed over the first few miles
of the track, where the roots of the trees were thick and progress
necessarily slow, I chatted with my guide and heard all the stories of
the Carnival; then, as the track became clearer, I pushed my horse to a
gentle canter and shouted to the guide to keep up with me. Time after
time I had to wait for him, and each time he seemed to lag further and
further behind, so about midday I left him and pushed on to the only
place in the track where water was to be found and there stopped to
eat my breakfast. I rested nearly an hour and still no guide made his
appearance; at last, fearing he had met with some accident, I rode
back along the track for about two miles, when I found him seated on
the ground in the middle of the track and his mule quietly grazing
close by. Nothing seemed to be the matter with him, and when I asked
him why he did not come on to the water, he replied that he needed his
breakfast, and, as far as I could find out, had made it solely off a
large bottle of aguardiente, which was now quite empty.
With some difficulty I got him on his mule again, whilst he kept
muttering "Galope, galope! con los Ingleses es siempre así, galope,
galope!" and for the remaining twenty miles, with the aid of a long
stick, I kept his mule in front of me at a 'galope,' or rather at a
sort of shuffling canter which was all she was equal to. The guide
swayed fearfully in his saddle, and at times I thought that he must
come off, but somehow or other he always managed to save himself
just in the nick of time; by degrees he got better, and, much to my
astonishment, when he dismounted at Santo Domingo he was as sober as a
judge. There we parted on the best of terms, and as I learnt that the
arriero had also arrived safely with the pack-mules, I mounted my horse
again and rode on to join Mr. Price at the ruins.