In Indian Mexico — Chapter XXIII - Ox-Cart Experiences, part 2

Ixhuatlan is like all the Zapotec towns of this district, but less clean, on account of its lying in the midst of dust, instead of sand.

Our carts drew up in a little grove, a regular resting-place for carting companies, where more than fifteen were already taking their daytime rest.

Having ordered breakfast, we hastened to the stream, where all enjoyed a bath and cleansing.

Coffee, bread, _tortillas_, eggs, and brandied peaches, made a good impression, and we ordered our buxom young Zapotec cook, who was a hustler, to have an equally good dinner ready at 2:30. We set this hour, believing that she would be late, but she was more than prompt, and called us at two to a chicken dinner.

It was interesting to watch the _carreteros_ in the grove.

The scenes of starting and arriving, packing and unpacking, chaffing and quarreling, were all interesting.

In the lagoons of Vera Cruz, our boatmen applied the term _jornada_ to a straight stretch across a lagoon made at one poling; here among the _carreteros_, the word _jornada_ means the run made from resting-place to resting-place.

In neither case is strict attention paid to the original meaning of the word, a day's journey.

Ixhuatlan is a made town; a paternal government, disturbed over the no progress of the pure Juaves in their seaside towns, set aside the ground on which this town now rests, and moved a village of Juaves to the spot.

High hopes were expressed for the success of the experiment; now, however, the town is not a Juave town.

It is true, that a few families of that people still remain, but for the most part, the Juaves have drifted back to the shore, and resumed their fishing, shrimp-catching and salt-making, while the expansive Zapotecs have crowded in, and practically make up the population of the place.

Between dinner and our starting, we wandered about the village, dropping into the various houses in search of relics.

As elsewhere, we were impressed with the independent bearing and freeness of the Zapotec woman.

She talks with everyone, on any subject, shrewdly.

She loves to chaff, and is willing to take sarcasm, as freely as she gives it.

In one house we had a specially interesting time, being shown a lot of things.

The woman had some broken pottery figures of ancient times, but also produced some interesting crude affairs of modern make from Juchitan.

These were figures of men and women--the latter generally carrying babies in indian fashion--of horses and other animals.

As works of art, they make no pretension, but they are stained with native colors, and are used as gifts at New Year's by the common people.

Here we saw the making of baked _tortillas_, and sampled some hot from the oven.

Such _tortillas_ are called _tortillas del horno_--oven _tortillas_.

Flat _tortillas_, about the size of a fruit-plate, are fashioned in the usual way; a great _olla_ is sunk in the ground until its mouth is level with the surface.

This is kept covered by a _comal_, or a smaller _olla_, and a good hot fire of coals is kept burning within.

When the _tortillas_ have been shaped, they are stuck on the hot _olla_, being pressed against the sides, to which they adhere, and are left to bake.

In baking, the edges curl up so that the cake, instead of being flat, is saucer-shaped.

They are crisp and good.

Leaving at four, we continued on the hot, deep, dusty road, but saw interesting plants and animals along the way.

There were fine displays of the parasitic fig, from examples where the parasite was just beginning to embrace its victim, through cases where it had surrounded the tree with a fine network of its own material, to those where the original tree-trunk was entirely imbedded in the great continuous gray investing trunk of the parasite, now larger than its host.

Some trees bore bunches of pale-purple flowers of tubular form, which fell easily from the calyx, and dotted the ground along the roadside.

Other trees appeared as if covered with veils of little purplish-red flowers hung over them.

Others were a mass of golden bloom, the flowers being about the size of cherry blossoms.

A few trees, yet leafless, showed large, brilliant white flowers at the tips of rather slender branches.

At Ixhuatlan, we saw the first monkey's comb of the trip.

This orange-yellow flower, growing in clusters so curiously shaped as to suggest the name, is among the most characteristic, from this point on through Chiapas into Guatemala.

There were but few birds, but among them were macaws and toucans.

Eustasio said that in the season, when certain berry-bearing trees are in full fruit, the latter may be seen by hundreds.

When night had really fallen, I unwisely sat in front with the driver, to prevent his sleeping, and to keep the animals moving.

Both drivers had a way of dozing off, utterly regardless of the movements of the animals or the dangers of the road.

Carts going in opposite directions must often depend absolutely upon the oxen for their chance of escaping collisions or being thrown over precipices.

Frequently the animals themselves stop, and the whole company is at a standstill until the driver wakes up.

In this _jornada_, we had planned to reach La Frontera, the border of the state of Chiapas, at which place we had been promised we should arrive at 8:30 in the morning.

Everything had gone well, and we were just about to reach the place, where it was planned to repack for the last time; it was just daylight, and Eustasio was congratulating us upon our prompt arrival; we drove to the brink of a dry stream, on the other side of which was our resting-place; just at that instant, we heard the other driver cry out; we stopped, and found that the baggage-cart was overturned.

This dashed all hopes.

There was unhitching, unloading, the making of a new axle, and reloading.

It was plain that we could not reach La Frontera.

While the men were putting things to rights, we strolled up the dry stream-bed to a shanty, where Eustasio told us we could breakfast.

There was a well there, with fresh water, and the shanty, for the refreshment of travellers, consisted of nothing but a little shelter of poles.

Here, however, we found baked _tortillas, atole_, and hard meat; the breakfast for four persons, cost twenty-five centavos, equal to ten cents American money.

Through the day, birds were hunted and skinned, reading and writing carried on, until at half-past-three in the afternoon we were again ready for movement.

The road was now sandy, and not dusty, the sand being produced by the decomposition of crystalline rocks.

Mounting to a high _llano_, we shot a pair of curious birds, which looked like water-birds, but were living in a dry place and were able to run with great speed.

They were of the size of a hen, and had a long beak, long legs and four flat though not webbed toes.

At the end of this high _llano_, we passed the Hacienda of Agua Blanca, a property belonging to the _jefe_ of Juchitan.

From here, we descended rapidly over a poor road, coming out at nine onto the straight road from Tapanatepec, at this point four leagues behind us.

From here on, the whole road was familiar to me.

La Frontera was just ahead, and, arriving there at 10 o'clock, we spent an hour.

Before us rose a massive mountain, the ascent of which seemed appalling.

We could see a white line of road zigzagging up its side, and well remembered Governor Leon's pride in having constructed a cart-road against great natural difficulties.

Thirty or forty ox-teams had gathered here, either ready to make the ascent, or resting, after having come down the mountain.

Having gotten breath and courage, we started at about eleven.

The road had suffered during the five years since I last passed over it, but was still an excellent work of engineering.

As we mounted, zigzagging constantly, the magnificent view over the valley widened; each new turn increased its beauty.

My companions were asleep, and had had so little rest recently, that I hated to disturb them for the view.

When, however, we were two-thirds up the slope, they awakened, and were as delighted as myself.

We all got out, and walked for a considerable distance.

An astonishing number of little streams and pools of fresh water burst forth from the rocks, and cut across the road or flowed along its sides.

Finally, we reached the summit, and began the descent.

This had made no impression on me when I went over it on horseback, but travelling in an ox-cart was a different matter, and I shall never again forget it.

It was less abrupt than the ascent--less of vertical zigzag, and more of long steady windings.

It also was excavated in the solid rock.

It was badly neglected, and the cart jolted, and threatened every instant to upset us, or leap into the gulf.

Coming out into a more level district, we passed Paraje and Dolores, reaching Carizal at five, where we stopped for the day.

This is a regular resting place for _carreteros_, and there were plenty of carts there for the day.

As soon as the oxen were unyoked, I turned out my companions and lay down in the cart, trying to get an hour's sleep before the sun should rise, as I had not closed my eyes since leaving Union Hidalgo two days before.

I was asleep at once, but in less than an hour was awakened by the assaults of swarms of minute black-flies, whose stings were dreadful.

The rest of the company suffered in the same way, so we all got up and went to work.

A group of _carreteros_ breakfasting, invited me to eat with them--hard _tortillas, atole_ and salted meat, formed a much better breakfast than we got, a little later, at the house upon the hill where travellers eat their meals.

At this house they had a little parrot which was very tame, and also a _chacalacca_, which had been hatched by a domestic hen from a captured egg.

This bird is more slender and graceful than a hen, but our landlord informed us that its eggs are much larger than those of the common fowl, and much used for food.

Both this bird and the little parrot regularly fly off with flocks of their wild fellows, but always come back afterward to the house.

This was a most interesting example of an intermediate stage between true wildness and domestication.

There was little doing throughout the day.

Heat, black-flies, and sunlight all made it impossible to sleep; but we took a bath in the running brook, and skinned some birds, and tasted _posole_ for the first time.

_Posole_ is a mixture of pounded or ground corn and sugar, of a yellow or brownish color, much like grape-nuts.

It may be eaten dry, but is much more commonly mixed with water.

The indian dips up a _jícara_ full of clear spring water, and then, taking a handful of _posole_ from his pouch, kneads it up until a rather thick, light-yellow liquid results, which is drunk, and is refreshing and satisfying.

Almost all the _carreteros_ at this camp were Juchitecos.

They were great, strong fellows, and almost all of them wore the old-fashioned indian breech-clout of red cotton under their drawers or trousers.

When they were working at their carts, greasing the wheels, or making repairs, they were apt to lay by all their clothing but this simple piece of cloth, and their dark-brown bodies, finely muscled, hard and tough, presented handsome pictures.

The little fellows who accompanied them, up to the age of twelve, usually ran about with no article of clothing save their little breech-clouts and white cotton shirts.

In the early afternoon, serious work began, and everywhere we saw these men patching coverings, greasing wheels, readjusting cargoes, feeding and watering their animals, harnessing, and making other preparations for leaving.

During the idle portion of the day, dice were in evidence, and Eustasio was fascinated with the game.

The stakes, of course, were small, but he kept at it persistently until he had lost five pesos, when, with forcible words, he gave up.

I am sure the dice were loaded, but I am equally sure, from all I know of Eustasio, that the next time he makes that journey, he will have some loaded dice himself.

Setting out at 3:30, we were at the head of a long line of cars, and were soon making another steady zigzag to ever greater heights than those before climbed.

According to the official _itinerario_, the distance from Dolores to San Miguel is five leagues; we had left Dolores a league behind in arriving at Carizal, and we naturally assumed that four leagues would bring us to San Miguel.

Eustasio, however, who never under-estimated, claimed that it would take constant travelling until eight in the morning to reach Los Pinos, which is still this side of San Miguel.

This is a fair example of the inaccuracy of figures published by the government.

As I looked behind at the long line of carts, some of which were empty, and able to journey at good speed, the desire took possession of me to hire one, at least for a short distance, in the hope of getting a little sleep.

Looking over the line, to make my choice, I had just selected one, and was about to broach my plan, when its driver ran the vehicle into the branches of a tree, which projected over the road, and tore away his awning.

The idea was unaffected by this accident, however, and picking out a cart, which had a thick layer of corn-husks piled in it, promising a comfortable bed, I arranged my bargain with the owner, and deserted my party, betaking myself to my private car.

Having no load, we pushed ahead and, stretching myself at full length upon the heap of corn-husks, I was soon asleep.

It was my purpose to disembark at Los Pinos, but we had passed that place long before I awoke, and were in sight of San Miguel when I opened my eyes.

It was too early for breakfast, so I concluded to ride along to Macuilapa, where my carter turned off into another road.

It was just eight when we arrived, and I thought of my companions as probably just reaching Los Pinos.

Starting from there at three in the afternoon, they should overtake me at seven.

So I took possession of the great country house, sitting in the corridor all day long.

The house is a long, large, single-storied building, with heavy tiled-roof; the store-houses, sheds and other out-houses, with the adobe huts belonging to the workmen, surround a somewhat regular area.

The view, however, in front of the house is uninterrupted, and looks off into a narrow valley, bounded prettily by hills.

The house has a wide brick-paved corridor.

Near it was an interesting ancient stone carving.

The rock was coarsely crystalline, and gray, or olive-gray in color.

It had been battered into the bold, simple outline of a frog, crouched for leaping; the head had an almost human face, with a single central tooth projecting from the lower jaw.

The work was in low relief, and looked as if the ancient workman had taken a natural boulder, and beaten with his hammer-stone only sufficiently to bring out the details.

The stone measured perhaps four feet in length, three feet in breadth, and two feet in thickness.

It was found in the mountains near, and, from the marks upon it, seems to have been embedded in the soil half way up the legs.

Probably, when first made, it was placed so that the feet were even with the ground surface, but the accumulation of vegetable soil since has been considerable.

The Hacienda of Macuilapa manufactures sugar and raises indigo, quantities of the seed of which were being cleaned when I was there.

The owner of the place is a man of means, but the meals served were of a mean and frugal kind.

Everyone made dire prophecies about the time of possible arrival of my companions, and the period necessary for our further journey to Tuxtla Gutierrez.

I had not expected my companions before seven, and after these dismal forebodings, gave up that expectation.

To my surprise, they appeared, in good health and spirits, at five o'clock, though with exciting tales of peril and suffering.

After a meal together, we again mounted in the old fashion, and were on our way.

The air was fresh and cool, and at 9:30 the moon rose, giving perfect light.

The road was high and sandy, with occasional small ascents and descents.

At eleven we stopped to rest, I agreeing to wake them all at midnight; at one o'clock I was awakened by our _carretero_ raising the tongue of the wagon!

We passed La Razon at three.

As one of the oxen, which had been somewhat lame, was now in bad condition, we all dismounted, half-a-league before we reached Zapote, and walked the rest of the way.

The Hacienda of Zapote is really almost a town.

There are two _fincas_, belonging to two brothers.

Their fine large houses, the out-buildings, and the clusters of adobe huts for the workmen, make an imposing appearance.

We stopped at the first group of buildings, which stands a little lower than the other.

Arriving at six, we spent the whole day at this place; the meals at the great house were excellent and cheap.

In the afternoon we heard marimba-playing; the instrument was called _la golondrina_ and cost the owner forty-three pesos.

[Illustration: A DAY REST; THE CARIZAL] [Illustration: MARIMBA-PLAYING; HACIENDA DE ZAPOTE] The players were carefully trained, being four brothers.

The youngest of them was not more than fourteen years old, but he put much expression and spirit into his playing.

It was the first time that any of the party, but myself, had heard this instrument, and all were delighted at its brilliant, quick, and pleasing music.

We left at 3:45 in the afternoon, but our ailing animal was worse than ever, and Eustasio ran ahead, trying to secure others at different ranches.

He had had no success when, after a rough ride of several hours, we drew up at Jiquipilas, where we waited until the morning.

We planned to secure new animals, to leave at dawn, and to reach Tuxtla after a twenty-four hour ride.

We laid down and slept, waking at five, but finding no sign of animals.

We breakfasted at seven, and a little later the new oxen appeared.

There were two yokes of rather light animals.

Leaving our sick beast, and driving the other three along with us, the new animals were put to the loads, and at eight o'clock we started.

I failed to recognize Rancho Disengaño, but having passed it, we found ourselves at the bottom of the much-dreaded, last important climb of the journey.

The little team dragging the passenger cart was inefficient and unruly; tiring of them, I dismounted and went ahead on foot.

For a time I drove the unyoked cattle, but a stubborn one wandering into the brush, I gave up the job, and left poor Louis, who had just overtaken me, to chase him.

He had hard work, through tangled brush, here and there, up and down, until at last the animal was once more upon the road.

The boy was hot, tired, and loaded with _pinolillos_.

These insects had been in evidence for a long time back.

They are exceedingly small ticks, which fix their claws firmly in the flesh, and cause intolerable itching.

Keeping in the road, the traveller is little likely to be troubled by them; but walking through grass, or among leafy plants, is dangerous.

Having climbed a portion of our great ascent, we found ourselves at Agua Bendita.

It was not as beautiful as on the occasion of my other visit; the projecting ledge of rock had little water dripping, and in the round catch-basins, which formerly were filled with fresh, clear water, there was scarcely any; on account of the unusual dryness, the ferns were wilted, and there was little of that beauty and freshness which so delighted me before.

Eustasio said that he had never seen the spot so dry in all his many journeys.

Nor were there orchids blooming on the great tree near; nor any of the little toucans which had been so attractive in 1896. As we stood, seeking for these well-remembered things, we heard curious cries rising from the valley.

At first, I thought it was indians wailing for the dead; then, that it was a band of pilgrims singing.

But it turned out to be a company of cowboys, bringing cattle up for shipment to Tabasco.

Some rode ahead, and, with loud but not unmusical cries, invited and urged the animals and their drivers to follow.

The beasts were divided into three bands, thirty or forty in a band, each of which had its mounted drivers.

The animals were lively, and we were warned that they were _muy bravo_.

Manuel had taken the task of driving our loose cattle, and was fearful that he would be overtaken, asserting that the cowboys had said that he must keep on, as they could not pass him with their animals.

When he came up to where we were, we put a quick end to his folly, driving our three oxen to the outer edge of the road, where Louis and he stood guard over them, while I crept up on the cliff to avoid scaring the animals that were coming.

It took much driving, urging, and coaxing on the part of the cowboys to get the first two or three to pass us, but after they had led the way, the others followed with a rush.

[Illustration: AGUA BENDITA] [Illustration: MOVING THE GREAT STONE; AGUA BENDITA] Presently our passenger-cart came along, with both teams of oxen hitched to it; the new animals had proved too light to drag their proper loads, so the freight-cart had been left behind, and the full force employed in dragging the first cart up the hill.

Just beyond this spot, we found a gang of indians, under a superintendent, prying off an immense rock mass that had fallen from the cliff above onto the road, with the intention of dumping it over the wall into the abyss.

It would have been a sight to have seen it plunge, but we had no time to wait, so simply stopped a few minutes to see the method of moving the immense mass with pole pries.

Our cart had gone ahead, so we finished the ascent on foot, and having gained the summit, walked a short distance on the high plateau to Petapa, where the cart and _carretero_, Manuel and Ramon, were waiting.

Before we arrived, we met our men going back with the four oxen for the freight-cart.

We had supper at the ranch, and waited, until at six o'clock everything was ready.

Here we sent back the two yokes of animals which we had brought from Jiquipilas, and secured a fine, strong beast to make up our number, and started.

We did not stop to grease the wheels, for lack of time.

It was dark, and the first part of the journey was uncertain and difficult; coming out on to the Llano Grande, we found things easy, though here and there were stony places, where we jolted fearfully.

At 10:30, we had passed La Cienega, and our ungreased wheels were not only an annoyance, but, Eustasio suggested, a source of danger, as they might take fire.

So, at 11:30, we stopped to grease them.

As the axles and wheels were then too hot for grease to be safely applied, we lay down while they should cool.

Probably in less than five minutes, we were all asleep, and no one moved until, waking with a start and looking at my watch, I found it two in the morning.

We hastily applied grease, without removing the wheels, and hurried onward, passing Sabino Perez, Yerba Santa, and Sabinal.

Here, the errors in our _itinerario_, and in our driver's guessing at distances, were curiously emphasized.

We had a rather heavy descent, for some distance, over a limestone hill called Santo Domingo.

Nowhere do I know of any road which, under the best of circumstances, seems as long as the last stretch before Tuxtla Gutierrez.

This we had noticed on our earlier journey, when we were mounted on horseback.

Present conditions were not likely to diminish the impression.

At last, at 11:30 in the morning of March 12, we reached the capital city of the State of Chiapas, and were taken by our _carretero_ to the little old Hotel Mexico, kept by Paco, where we met a hearty welcome and, for several days, made up for the hardships of our journey in the way of eating.