In Indian Mexico — Chapter XII - The Mixes Revisited, part 2

We had hoped to find the valley of clouds, and the great cloud cataract, on the road to Juquila, but were doomed to disappointment.

When we stood upon the summit, looking down into what before had been the sea of mist, the whole place was clear, and everything, to the very bottom of the valley, was visible.

The further journey seemed more tedious than before, and the latter part of the road seemed truly endless.

There was not a breath of air; the sun poured its hot rays down mercilessly.

Long before we reached Juquila I felt, for the first time in Mexico, that I was suffering from fever.

After seven and a half hours on the road, we reached the town at 1:30 in the afternoon, and went at once to the town-house, where we were well received, and arrangements were made for our comfort.

When they saw that I was suffering, they brought out hammocks, of which I made no use.

Making myself a bed of blankets upon the floor, I lay down in my misery and covered myself from the world, a blanket over my head.

After some hours, I felt that we were losing time, and that we must, at least, make arrangements for the work of the following day.

It was now dusk.

I sent for the officials, and when they appeared, told them that, notwithstanding my suffering, I could not lose time, and that early in the morning they must bring persons for measurement.

There was a good deal of discussion over the matter.

The officials were dissatisfied that my order was not signed by the _jefe_ of their district and dated from San Carlos.

They suggested that we send a messenger to San Carlos to inquire whether the order was all right.

I

replied that four days would be consumed in going and coming; that time was precious, and that it was impossible for us to wait.

Seeing that they were likely to refuse to do what I wished, I made a little speech, in which I told them they had better do what I asked, and that promptly.

No one so far had recognized me as having been there before.

I told them that they had never had better friend that I; that this was not the first time I had visited Juquila; that when I came before I had had difficulty; that my companion, presenting an order from the governor, had been badly received by their _presidente_, who tried to do him violence; that if I had reported this incident, they knew well what would have happened; that, however, being their good friend, I had never reported it.

Having jogged their memory regarding the past, I suggested to them that a report of the previous occurrence, with their present disregard of orders, might be serious.

I told them that they knew what I desired; that they might at once inform me whether it would be done or not; if they decided in the negative, the _secretario_ and my _mozo_ must start at once on foot to Oaxaca, carrying my complaint to the governor; that, as for me, having started them upon their journey, I should leave early the following morning going to some town where the people knew what obedience to the law meant.

They at once promised that no time should be lost, and that, the following morning, I should have the subjects for whom I asked, viz.

, thirty-five men and twenty-five women.

Nor was it simply promises; having told them that I would begin early in the morning whether I were well or ill, and that I wanted no delay, we found our thirty-five men waiting, at seven o'clock.

[Illustration: THE LAND OF THE MIXES] At Juquila the system of public crying from the _plaza_ is fully developed.

The town lies in a valley, and most of the houses are on slopes surrounding the little plain or terrace upon which the _plaza_ is situated on which the government house is built.

When aid was needed by the town authorities, whether _zacate_ for our horses, food for ourselves, objects for inspection, or what not, one of the officers, whose business it seemed to be, stepped out upon the _plaza_, and, raising his voice would cry out what was needed by the authorities.

Whoever had the things desired, coming out before their houses, would cry back the amount, description and variety of the articles they could supply.

This we found to be the constant practice.

Notwithstanding the clearness of the preceding day, our day of working was cold, damp, and foggy.

The sea of cloud and cataract of mists must have been in full operation.

Where we were, a heavy wind was blowing and, before night, rain falling.

We had not thought of the possibility of heavy storms or damaged roads at this time of the year, but, before night came, the people of the village expressed surprise that we should talk of leaving the next morning.

They assured us that at Quezaltepec and Ixcuintepec it was surely raining heavily, and that the roads would be wet, slippery and impassable.

Long before we went to bed, a gale was blowing and we felt doubts regarding further progress.

In the morning it was still wet and chilly; all told of terrible roads and risks in proceeding; we delayed.

Finally, we decided to press on at least to Ocotopec.

We had tried to send the _mozos_ forward with our baggage, but it was plain they would not move until we did.

Finally, somewhat after nine, we started.

It was still heavy and chilly; we found the road much better than we feared; at some points it was slippery, but not for long distances.

Until we were on the final descent to Ocotopec we were sheltered from the cold wind.

To be sure, here and there, where the road passed little funnel openings along the crest, we felt fully the cold wind loaded with mist.

We noticed, what on the other trip escaped my attention, the profound difference in vegetation between the two sides of the hill upon the crest of which we were travelling.

The one slope, cold and damp, was densely forested with trees, loaded with air-plants and orchids.

The other slope, warmer and drier, was far less heavily grown, and in large part, with pines.

Among the plants noticed by the roadside was a species of pinguicula which was very common on damp clay-cuttings.

Its leaves form a close, flat rosette upon the ground, from which a slender stalk rises, with a a single crimson flower.

When we reached the final descent to the town, we caught the full force of the cold, mist-laden wind, which struck our faces and made us shiver.

Yet it was on this very slope, so frequently cold and wet, that the oaks, covered with air-plants and blooming orchids, were at their finest.

Ferns in astonishing variety, from the most delicate, through giant herbaceous forms, to magnificent tree-ferns; lycopods of several species, and selaginellas, in tufts, covered the slopes; and great banks of begonias, in fine bloom, showed themselves.

Before we reached the village we were forced to dismount, on account of the slippery condition of the road, and entered town on foot.

In our other journey Ocotopec made no impression on us.

It is really one of the most picturesque and interesting of the Mixe towns.

It is built upon a slope, which is cut and built into a series of little terraced gardens; clusters or groups of houses stand on the terraces.

The houses are rectangular, built of adobe brick and heavy thatch, with a thick comb of thatch riding the ridge.

Unlike most Mixe churches, the church at Ocotopec is entire, and in good condition.

It is built of stone.

The town is purely Indian, and the type is the best we had seen.

Had there been light for photographing, we should have stopped there and done our work, instead of passing on to Ixcuintepec.

As it was, we spent the night, and were well treated.

Leaving early in the morning, we hurried to Quezaltepec for dinner, the road being better than we had anticipated.

The town is prettily distributed upon a curved crest; the houses are neat, built of adobe or of poles daubed with mud.

Much fruit is grown here, and coffee is an important crop.

In almost every yard mats were spread out, on which coffee was drying, or being sorted by people squatting on the ground.

Considerable cotton is woven at this point.

Leaving at 3:40, the evening ride through the forest was magnificent.

The flora was such as we have before described.

As we rode through the higher forests, we constantly heard birds, notable among which were the _claríns_, with their fine clear notes.

It was dark before we reached Camotlan.

Nowhere had we been better treated.

We were shown at once into a clean room, and were soon surrounded by bustle and preparation for our comfort.

There are but 143 inhabitants, of whom six--four men and two women--have goitres.

We had been previously informed that the whole town was goitrous.

There were three deaf-mutes, but no idiots, in the town.

Inquiring for books printed in the Mixe tongue, we were informed that the choir-master had one.

On expressing my desire to see it, they sent to bring him.

We were astonished at his appearance.

The messengers who brought him carried him in their arms, and set him down upon the floor, when we saw that he had been born without legs, and with sadly deformed arms and hands.

Yet, when once placed upon the floor, he moved about easily, and had a cheery face and sunny temper.

He was delighted to show us his book and took the greatest pride in reading from it.

It is truly remarkable that he can do this.

The book was written in the dialect of Juquila of more than 170 years ago.

The dialect of Juquila was no doubt then different from that of Camotlan, and during the 170 years there have been great changes, even in that town itself.

As I watched the man read from his book, I noticed that he pronounced parts of words differently from the way in which they were spelled; how he had worked out for himself, unaided, the proper meaning and purport of the words was a mystery.

I had intended to purchase the book, but found him so attached to it that I gave up the plan.

Had he been a normal man, I should have insisted; but then, if he had been a normal man, he would not have had the book nor known how to read it.

From Camotlan we rode steadily for five hours to reach Ixcuintepec.

There were considerable stretches of slippery road to be passed.

The two gorge rides, the bridges of vines, and the houses along the way, were beautiful as ever, but the magnificent mountain forests were left entirely behind us.

The old church at Ixcuintepec is visible on the high crest for a considerable distance.

As we made the final climb, the boys noticed in the trees structures one and a half feet or two feet in diameter, and somewhat dome-shaped.

I should have taken them for wasps' nests, but the party insisted that they saw parrots come out of them, and that no doubt young parrots were in the nests.

Immediately there was great excitement, for Manuel had all along wanted to capture a parrot to take home with him.

The party stopped, and stones were thrown to drive out the birds, but with no result.

Finally Mariano climbed the tree, creeping out along the branches almost to the nest; just at that moment an unusually well-aimed stone struck the nest, but instead of parrots, out streamed a great cloud of wasps, which flew straight towards the _mozo_, who lost no time in getting down from his precarious position.

[Illustration: VIEW IN QUEZALTEPEC] We found Ixcuintepec almost deserted; hardly any of the town officials were there.

Almost everyone was off, working in the coffee _fincas_.

We quickly saw that we had made a great mistake in waiting for our remaining subjects until this town.

Not only were men conspicuous by their absence, but the women were extremely hostile.

They objected to our photographing their houses or themselves.

They drove the messenger whom I had sent to measure a house, for the purpose of making a miniature reproduction, off the premises with clubs.

The _mozos_, who had accompanied us thus far, had no intention of going farther, and the problem of getting carriers--which had troubled us ever since we had left Mitla--assumed serious proportions.

It was with great difficulty and much bluster that we secured the food we needed and the _mozos_.

When the _mozos_ came, three out of the four whom it was necessary for us to employ, were mere boys, the heartiest and best of whom was scarcely ten years old.

In vain we declared that it was impossible for such little fellows to carry the burdens that needed transportation.

It was plain that they were our only resource.

Starting the three boys upon a short cut to San Miguel, the oldest _mozo_ and ourselves went by another road to Coatlan.

It was fortunate for us that the school-teacher at this town was interested in our work.

We took possession of the schoolhouse, showed our orders to the officials, and, after much difficulty, obtained our wishes.

The town was almost as deserted as had been Ixcuintepec, but after infinite difficulty, we succeeded in getting sufficient subjects to complete our work.

We had thought ourselves unfortunate at Ixcuintepec and Coatlan; the worst lay before us.

We found San Miguel deserted.

Our three _mozos_ who had been paid, and ordered to go simply to that village, and there to leave our things, had left before we arrived.

The man who had come with us, we had dismissed before we realized conditions.

The coffee had been gathered for the season; the chief man of the place was in the mountains; there was no town government; neither prayers, threats, nor bribes produced food for ourselves and our horses; two or three men around the place would not be hired as _mozos_.

We finally were forced to leave our busts, plaster, photographic outfit and plates on a bench under an open shed, and go on alone to Santiago Guevea.

It was a bitter disappointment, because our previous experience at San Miguel had been so pleasant and interesting.

When we left Coatlan that morning, it had been through clouds and drizzling rain.

When we passed through San Miguel, conditions were but little better.

From there, we went through a gorge road, everywhere passing little plantations of coffee, bananas, and tobacco.

Finally, we began our last mountain or forest climb.

The wind with the rain became colder and more penetrating.

At the summit, we found a typical norther raging, and at points our animals and ourselves were almost blown from the crest.

In good weather the road is long, but through this it was dreadful.

Few towns compare in beauty of location, and appearance from a distance, with Santiago Guevea.

It was nearly five when we drew up in front of the crowded town-house.

It will be remembered that this town is Zapotec, Coatlan being the last Mixe town.

The school-teacher interested himself in our welfare, securing for us a real sleeping-room with cots, putting our horses into the corridor of the schoolhouse, and arranging for our meals.

Chocolate and bread were at once furnished, and at eight o'clock a good supper was sent to our room.

In the _plaza_ outside, the wind was blowing a hurricane and the cold cut like a knife; but the house in which we slept was tight and warm.

In the morning, we found the wild weather still continuing.

It had been out of the question to send _mozos_ to San Miguel the night before, and it seemed wicked to start them out in such a storm of wind, fog, rain and cold.

Still, our time was precious, and we ordered men sent to the place where our stuff had been left, to fetch it; meanwhile, we decided to wait until they should appear.

Our animals had had nothing to eat the previous day, except a little corn we had brought with us from Coatlan.

We therefore ordered _zacate_ brought for them.

The night before, I had inquired regarding the acquaintances we had made at San Miguel in our previous trip.

I

learned that the man had died less than a month before, but that the widow, the four boys and the little girl, having finished their work at the coffee _finca_ at San Miguel, were in town.

Accordingly we called at the house.

The woman immediately recognized me, and asked after Don Ernesto.

The boys were sleeping, bedded on piles of coffee, but were routed from their slumber to greet us.

At first, none of them remembered me, but the little girl did, and soon Castolo also.

Their house was comfortable, and piles of corn, coffee, and bananas were stacked up in the place.

They invited us to stop with them, but we were already well housed by the authorities.

As we left, the woman went to the corner, and, from a pile of similar objects, took two things neatly wrapped in corn-husks.

On opening them, we found that they were eggs, which are frequently wrapped in this way for storage, in all the indian towns.

Although we had ordered food for the horses, at seven o'clock it had not appeared.

We called at the town-house several times, but still no _zacate_.

Our dinner came, and the afternoon passed, but still no fodder for the horses was produced, and the poor animals had eaten nothing, practically, for two whole days, although subjected to hard work and the pelting storm.

We anxiously watched for the coming of the _mozos_ with our equipment.

The storm, though still raging, was abating, and we could see well down the road.

When, at half past three in the afternoon, there was no sign of either men or fodder, we called the town authorities to account.

We told them that we would wait no longer in a town where our animals could only starve; that they must forward our boxes, plaster and busts promptly to Tehuantepec; that we should hold them responsible for loss or delay, and that all should be delivered at the office of the _jefe_.

Paying no attention to their entreaties that we should wait a little longer for the fodder, which they promised, as they had so many times before, would come soon, we saddled our animals, and at 4:20 left the town.

Just as we started, little Castolo appeared with two bunches of _zacate_ sent by his mother, as a present to Don Federico.

Certainly, there must be a new and better road from Guevea to Santa Maria than the one we traversed in our other journey, and which again, following from memory, we used.

It was a fearful trail, neglected and ruined, over slippery rock and rough, sharp-splintered stone.

Still we pressed on rapidly, making even better time than we had been assured at the town that we might expect to make.

Never were we more happy than in reaching Santa Maria, lovely in the moonlight, with its great church, fine municipal-house, cocoa-nut trees and thatched huts.

Here was no sign either of the norther or the rain.

The next day's journey was over the hot dusty road with glimpses now and then of the distant Pacific and Tlacotepec for destination.

The following morning we pressed on toward Tehuantepec, through the dust and heat, reaching the city at noonday.

To our great surprise, we found the _mozos_, with the plaster, the busts, and the boxes of plates, waiting for us since four o'clock in the morning.

CHAPTER XIII