In Indian Mexico — Chapter XXIII - Ox-Cart Experiences, part 1

(1901) On the following morning, at seven, we took the railroad train, and at five at night had reached Tehuantepec, and were pleasantly located in our old hotel, the Europa.

On February 28, we visited the market, called at the house of the _jefe politico_ for a letter to the town authorities of Huilotepec, and visited Dr. Castle, whom we found much the same as ever.

We failed to find the _jefe_ at his office, though we went there several times, but found him sitting in a _tienda_ much the worse for drinking.

He was charmed to see us, embraced us warmly, and told us that his thoughts had frequently been with us since our former sojourn in his district.

New supplies of wine, and, on the appearance of certain ladies, of champagne, were ordered in witness of his satisfaction.

In regard to our desires, he was delighted to learn that Louis was shooting birds, declaring that we were just in time; that he had a damnable order from Mexico to send on skins of all the birds of his district for the National Museum, and that he had not known what to do in the matter;

we must prepare them; if we did so, willingly, we should be handsomely paid; but if not, he would be compelled to force us.

The jail was ready, and men die easily in Southern Mexico.

With this, he made some suggestions that it was easy for a person to be officially reported as accidentally killed, or dead from _vomito_.

He insisted that we should not go alone to Huilotepec, but that he himself would accompany us and make sure that everything was done according to our wishes.

All these dire threats and great promises were completely forgotten on the following day, when we sallied forth alone.

[Illustration: MANUEL AND AN IGUANA; TEHUANTEPEC] [Illustration: MARKET WOMEN; SAN BLAS] In the _jefe's_ office we learned that during the past year not only Coatzacoalcos, but Tehuantepec, had suffered frightfully from yellow fever.

Of course, the disease is no rarity on the Gulf coast, though it was never worse than in the last season; but in Tehuantepec, and on the Pacific coast, it is a thing so rare as to be almost unknown.

So true is this, that, when it was first reported from this district, the federal government did not believe the story, and sent a commission to investigate.

We learned that the commission arrived at evening, and, finding two persons dead in their black vomit on the street, made no further investigation, but started for Mexico on the following train.

The spread of the disease to the west coast is generally attributed, and no doubt correctly, to the railroad.

The disease was particularly fatal, in both places, to Americans and Englishmen, and it was whispered that 90 per cent of the employes of the new railroad management succumbed.

The chief clerk in the _jefe's_ office told us that, while many cases occurred here, no pure indians were taken, and that none of the _mestizos_ who were affected died--the mortality being confined to the foreigners.

Dr. Castle had moved, but his place was as interesting as ever.

For pets, he had three hairless dogs, a _mapachtl_, two macaws, two parrots, and a lot of doves, one of which he had taught tricks.

He was much interested in cactuses, and had established a garden in which he planned to have all the species of the district.

We had purchased some iguanas in the market, and Louis had been skinning them.

The Doctor said that there were three species of iguanas in the district, the largest being green, changing to orange or gray, and its flesh not being eaten, as it is too sweet; the second species is of medium size, and gray or black in color; the third is rarer, smaller, and is striped lengthwise; it lives among the rocks near the coast.

The two last species are both eaten, and are often sold in market.

Here we learned, by a casual remark which Manuel dropped on seeing the ugliest of the hairless dogs, that these are believed, not only here, but in Puebla, and no doubt elsewhere through the Republic, to cure rheumatism.

In order to effect a cure, the dog must sleep for three nights with the patient, and the uglier the dog the more certain the cure.

Through Dr. Castle, we also learned that the Zapotec Indians hereabouts, have many songs, of which the _sandunga_ is a great favorite.

Questioning an indian friend of mine, we afterwards learned that there are many of these pieces of music which are held to be truly indian.

The words are largely Zapotec; Spanish words are scattered through the song, and the sentiment is largely borrowed.

Most of the songs are love-songs, and they abound in metaphorical expressions.

Our little trip to Huilotepec was for the purpose of photographing the curious and interesting _mapa_ belonging to the village.

We rode out over the hot and dusty river-bed road, arriving at noon.

Sending for the _agente_ and _secretario_, we ordered breakfast and made known our errand.

Though it plainly was not to their taste, the _mapa_ was brought out for our inspection.

It is painted on a piece of coarse cotton cloth, of native weaving, in three colors--blue, red and black.

The places around Huilotepec are indicated by their ancient hieroglyphs.

Several personages of the ancient time are represented in the conventional manner commonly used in Zapotec writings before the Conquest.

After eating, we placed the _mapa_ against the wall, wrote out a description of it, and photographed it.

Dismay now filled the soul of the _agente_, and the one _principal_ whom he had summoned for advice.

They talked long and earnestly with me about the _mapa_, and begged me to assure the _jefe_ that it was no good; that it was not _autorizado_;

that it was _mudo_.

To quiet their fears, I was compelled to write a letter to that effect to be delivered to the _jefe_; if it ever came to hand, he certainly found it incomprehensible.

Mrs. Seler, in her book, describes the trouble that they had in seeing this _mapa_, and the interest which their examination of it aroused.

Dr. Castle told us that, several years ago, he accompanied a Mr. Werner and a priest to Huilotepec to see the _mapa_, and, if possible, to secure a picture of it.

For a long time they were unable to secure a glimpse of the old document, and it was only when the priest assured the indians that the doctor was an American engineer, who had been commissioned to survey the line in dispute between the village and the Juaves, that they were allowed to see it.

Before permission was then given, a general meeting of the _principales_ was held, and none of the guests were permitted to touch the document.

Mr. Werner made an exposure, which he sent to the States for development; it was lost or destroyed.

It is thus possible that ours is the only picture of it in existence.

We had been told that a coach went regularly from San Geronimo to Tuxtla Gutierrez, making the journey in two days.

This seemed too good to be true, and no one at Tehuantepec knew anything of such an arrangement, but we took the train the following morning for San Geronimo, hoping to get off without delay.

All that the traveller sees upon descending from the train is the station, the place of Señor Espindola, and the little Hotel Europa.

To our surprise, we found that our baggage had not yet come from Coatzacoalcos, although we had seen it loaded on the train ourselves.

Still worse, we were informed that frequently fifteen days were consumed in transportation of freight from that point hither, and that we had no right to expect it so promptly.

Inquiry regarding the coach revealed the fact that no such vehicle existed.

Six hard days of horseback riding would be necessary for the journey, and, though Ramon admitted himself to be much better, he was too weak for such an undertaking.

This had had its influence in determining us to go by coach in the first place.

When in doubt as to what we should do, Señor Espindola suggested that the journey could be made by ox-cart in ten or eleven days.

Though this seemed slow, it was better than to run risks with our invalid, and we determined to journey in that fashion as soon as our luggage should appear.

The station is situated on a somewhat elevated plain, constantly swept by heavy winds.

While we were there, this wind was hot, and loaded with dust.

In the afternoon, we walked through the indian town, which extends over a considerable area.

The houses are rectangular, with adobe walls, mostly whitewashed, and with steep, pitched roofs.

We met a funeral procession in the road, with the usual band in front.

The coffin open, so as to show the child, was carried on the shoulders of several men.

The mother, in contortions of real or simulated grief, was supported by two women, and the mourners brought up the rear, wailing now and then.

Among the mourners was a woman who suffered from black _pinto_, notably developed.

The principal industry of the town is pottery.

The clay, which is of a greyish-black color, is stiff and hard, and is first broken up with a mallet.

When worked into a stiff paste, it is built by hand into great _ollas_ and plates, one and a half or two feet in diameter.

These _ollas_ we saw at many houses, and sometimes they were lashed to carts, plainly for bringing water from the stream.

A single _olla_ thus lashed, practically filled a fair-sized cart.

[Illustration: DRYING POTTERY; SAN GERONIMO] [Illustration: CART AND OLLA; SAN GERONIMO] The little hotel at the station is a new venture, and deserves complete success.

At few places in Mexico have we found meals so good and cheap.

In the evening, more from curiosity than expectation, we watched the train come from the east, and to our surprise and satisfaction, found our luggage.

We had really made up our minds that we must spend some days in waiting; on the whole, the quiet and comfort of the little tavern would not have been unpleasant; but we hastened at once to Señor Espindola, and urged him to make instant arrangements for our leaving in the morning.

To this he replied that no _carretero_ would be likely to start on Sunday, and that we would have to wait until the following day.

Matters turned out better than anticipated, and before nine, the following morning, our arrangements had been made.

Two _carretas_ were hired, at twenty-eight pesos each, to make the journey; our driver agreed that, without counting that day, he could get us to Tuxtla in eight days; in order to encourage him, we promised to pay five pesos extra for each _carreta_, in case we reached the city of Tuxtla on Monday the 11th.

His name was Eustasio; he was a good-natured little Zapotec, from Juchitan originally, but living now at Guviño, Union Hidalgo.

He warned us that, for the first day, we would have to put up with some discomfort, but that, upon reaching his home, he would fit us out magnificently.

He promised to start at four that afternoon, and we were ready; of course, he was not, nor was he at five; so we went back to the hotel for a last good supper, and finally at 5:50 started.

There were four teams and carts in the company, loaded with freight for Hidalgo.

The night was clear, with a fine moon.

The road was over heavy sand.

Sometimes we walked in the moonlight, passing Ixtaltepec at 8:30, and reaching Espinal at ten, where we lost three-quarters of an hour in loading freight.

From there all went well, until a-quarter-of-two in the morning, when we were passing through a country covered with scrub timber.

Here we constantly met many carts heavily loaded; the road was narrow, and several times collisions, due to the falling asleep of one or other of the _carreteros_, were narrowly escaped.

Finally, one really did take place, between our second cart and a heavily loaded one going in the other direction.

The axle of our cart was broken, and the vehicle totally disabled.

Two hours and a quarter were consumed in making repairs and in reloading.

Here, for the first time, we were impressed with two characteristics in our driver: first, his ability to swear, surpassing anything that we had ever heard; second, his astonishing skill and ingenuity in repairing any accident or break, which happened on the road.

Before our journey was over, we learned that both these qualities are common to his profession.

It was four o'clock in the morning before we were again upon our way.

All hope of reaching Union Hidalgo at the promised hour disappeared.

Before sunrise, we had turned into the hot, dusty, broad, straight high-road, which, after my journey of 1896, I had devoutly hoped never to see again.

Just as the sun rose, we took quite a walk, killing some parrots, _calandrias_, and _chacalaccas_ as we walked.

They said that _javali_--peccaries,--were common there.

The day was blisteringly hot, long before we reached Union Hidalgo; hot, hungry and sleepy, we reached our carter's home, a little before ten in the morning.

The _carreta_ in which we were travelling was here far ahead, and after we had rested half-an-hour or more, Manuel, hot and perspiring, appeared, and reported that the disabled cart had broken down again, and that the other two were delayed by a sick animal.

All came straggling in later.

We had planned to leave here toward evening, travelling all Monday night; but hardly had we rested a little, and eaten dinner, when Eustasio announced that we should spend the night here, and not leave until the following afternoon.

He said the animals were hot and tired from travelling in the daytime, and that to push on would defeat our plans.

He swore that, unless God decreed otherwise, we should reach Tuxtla Gutierrez by the promised date.

There was nothing for it but submission, though we would gladly have chosen a more interesting town than Union Hidalgo for a stay of almost two days.

When evening came, I took my bed of poles out into the open air, into the space between two houses; Ramon lay down upon a loaded _carreta_, also out of doors, while Louis and Manuel took possession of hammocks in one of the houses.

It was a cloudless night, with brilliant moon.

The air soon grew cool.

After midnight, I was aroused by the most frightful yelling, and opening my eyes, I saw a barefooted, bareheaded Indian yelling out the most frightful imprecations and oaths.

At first I thought that he was insulting some one in the house, but both the houses were fast closed.

Ramon, completely wrapped in his blanket, could attract no notice, and I did not believe that I had been observed, nor that I was addressed.

For quite ten minutes the crazy drunkard stood there in the moonlight, bawling out a frightful torrent of abuse, invective, and profanity, with an occasional "_Viva Mexico!

Muere Guatemala_!"

patriotically thrown in.

[Illustration: THE DRUNKARD'S EXCHANGE; UNION HIDALGO] [Illustration: BEFORE REACHING UNION HIDALGO] At last he disappeared, but for a long time could be heard howling, as he went from house to house.

Believing that it might be well to be prepared for intruders, I arose and pulled a stake from one of the carts, and laid it at my side, upon the bed.

But I was soon fast asleep again.

Awaking at five, I found myself so cold, and the dew so heavy, that I dressed, and wrapped my blanket around me, and sat up, waiting for daylight.

At 5:30 our drunken friend passed again, somewhat less voluble, but still vociferous.

He was absolutely crazed with drink, and through the day several times made his appearance, and always with a torrent of abuse and profanity which made one's blood run cold.

Before the day was well begun, a second person, almost as drunk, but far more quiet, a nice-looking old man, began making similar visits about the village.

The two drunkards, differing in age and build, differed also in dress, but on the occasion of one of their visits, they were taken with the crazy notion of exchanging clothes, and proceeded to undress, making the exchange, and re-clothing themselves in garments ridiculously non-fitting--all with the utmost gravity and unsteadiness.

During the day, our _carretas_ were being prepared.

Apologizing for the inconvenience of the preceding day, Eustasio proposed to fix our cart "as fine as a church."

He put a decent cover over it, and laid our sacks of plaster on the floor.

Upon this, he spread a layer of corn-stalks, and over them, a new and clean _petate_.

To be sure, the space left above was low for comfort, and we were horrified when we saw him loading up the second one, not only with the balance of our luggage, but high with maize, fodder, and great nets of ears of corn, to feed the animals.

We had supposed that two persons and part of the luggage would go in each of the carts, and never thought of carrying food enough to last four oxen eight days.

Crowding four people into our _carreta_ made it impossible to lie down in comfort.

Still, such is the custom of the country, and we submitted.

During the day we heard a woman crying in a house.

Upon investigating, we found that she was the wife of a _carretero_ who had been injured on the road, and for whom a _carreta_ had been sent.

Shortly afterward, they brought the poor fellow into town, amid weeping and lamenting.

When they took him from the _carreta_ in which he had been brought, he was supported by two men and helped into the house, where he was laid upon a hammock.

He groaned with pain, and a crowd of curious villagers pressed into the room.

It was easy to locate four broken ribs behind, and he complained of great internal bleeding.

It seemed that he had started to climb up onto his moving cart in the usual way, and the stake which he had seized broke, letting him fall to the ground under the wheel of the heavily-loaded cart, which passed over his body.

Finally, all was ready, and at about five in the evening we started.

Packed like sardines in a box, we were most uncomfortable.

Personally, I did not try to sleep, neither lying down, nor closing my eyes.

Shortly after leaving town, we crossed a running stream, and from the other side went over a piece of corduroy, upon which we jounced and jolted.

Soon after, we descended into a little gully, from which our team had difficulty in drawing us.

The baggage-cart had a more serious time; the team made several attempts to drag it up the slope, but failed, even though our whole company, by pushing and bracing, encouraging and howling, aided.

There was a real element of danger in such help, the slipping animals and the back-sliding cart constantly threatening to fall upon the pushers.

Finally, the cart was propped upon the slope, and its own team removed; our team, which was heavier and stronger, was then hitched on, but it was only with a hard tug, and with heavy pushing, that success was gained, and the cart reached the summit of the slope.

We crossed a fine marsh of salt water, quite like the lagoon at San Mateo del Mar, and were told that we were not far from the Juave town of San Dionisio.

From here, the country, was, for a distance, an open plain.

With the moonlight, the night was almost as bright as day; cold winds swept sheets of sand and dust over us.

At one o'clock, we happened upon a cluster of six or eight carts, drawn up for rest, and the company of travellers were warming themselves at little fires, or cooking a late supper.

We learned that this gypsy-like group was a _compania comica_, a comic theatre troupe, who had been playing at Tuxtla, and were now on their way to Juchitan.

We never before realized that such travelling of ox-carts as we were now experiencing was a regular matter, and that the carter's trade is a real business.

At two o'clock, we stopped to repack our loads, but were shortly on the way again.

After the sun rose, we were in misery; the road was deep with dust, and we were grimy, hot, and choking.

When the cross that marks the beginning of the land belonging to Ixhuatlan was pointed out, we were delighted, but it was still a long ride before we crossed the little stream and rode into the village.