In Indian Mexico — Chapter XXV - Tzotzils and Tzendals, part 2

[Illustration: TZENDAL FATHER AND SON; TENEJAPA] The morning had thus passed; animals for the further journey had been ordered for ten o'clock, and were really ready a little before three.

For once, however, _we_ were not prepared.

It was our custom to pack the busts in petroleum boxes; these boxes, each holding a five-gallon can of oil, are of just the size to take a single bust, and they are so thin and light, yet at the same time, so well constructed, that they served our purpose admirably.

In small indian towns, they are frequently unobtainable, but in the places where _mestizos_ live, it had been always easy to procure them, at prices varying from ten to twenty-five cents each.

In a town the size of San Cristobal, it should be easy to get them; to our surprise, we found that they had been in such demand, for carrying purposes by public workmen, that the supply was small and the price outrageous.

We had left the securing of the boxes and the packing of the busts to our plaster-worker, and, though we knew he had had difficulty, imagined that he had secured all needed, and that the busts would be all ready.

Diligent search, however, had secured but two boxes, and ridiculous prices had been demanded for those.

All of us took to the streets, visiting stores and private houses, and at last five boxes were secured, though they were a dilapidated lot, with bad covers.

For these we paid an average of sixty-two cents each.

Realizing the time and labor necessary for securing boxes, stuff for packing, and for the work of putting up the busts, we dismissed our horsemen, and arranged for leaving the next morning.

In fact, night had fallen before our work was done.

Leaving a little before eight, we had a magnificent mountain ride.

For a league or more, we rose steadily over a cart-road; keeping at a high altitude, and, with but little of ups and downs, we journeyed through fine pine forests, with oaks mingled, here and there, among the pines.

We met quantities of Chamula and Tenejapa indians on their way to market.

The Chamulas carried chairs, loads of well-tanned skins, and sacks full of little, round wooden boxes, well and neatly made, while the Tenejapes were loaded with nets of oranges, _limas_, and _ahuacates_.

We were sorry to leave the village of Chamula to one side, but lack of time forbade our visiting it.

It was amusing to note the terror of our _arriero_ on the road.

Until we passed Cancuc, he was constantly expecting attack from the dreadful indians of Chamula, Tenejapa, and Cancuc, telling us that such attacks might be expected at any time, but particularly in the early morning and in the dusk of evening.

What indians we met were most gentle, and answered our salutations with apparent kindness.

After a long journey on the high, smooth road, we finally began descending into a pretty valley, and soon saw the great town of Tenejapa, below us, on a space almost as level as a floor, neatly laid out, and still decked with the arches erected for a recent fiesta.

The _agente_ of the town had been warned of our coming, by telephone from the _jefatura_, and received us warmly, a little before one o'clock, giving us a large and comfortable room in the municipal building, supplied with chairs and benches, and a table, though without beds or mats.

We were here delayed by the slowness of the old man, who had been furnished at San Cristobal for carrying our instruments.

By three o'clock, all was ready, and the twenty-five women were summoned.

They gave no kind of trouble, and by six o'clock the work was done.

Women here braid their hair in two braids, which are wrapped about closely with cords, making them look like red ropes; these are then wound around the head and picturesquely fastened.

The _huipíls_ of cotton are short, and decorated with scattered designs, worked in color, and loosely arranged in transverse bands.

Belts are of wool, red in color, and broad, but not long.

Over their shoulders the women wear, particularly in cool weather, a red and blue striped cotton shawl or wrap.

The red worn--whether in belts, wraps, or hair-strings--is all of one shade, a dull crimson-red.

As night fell, dozens of little bonfires were lighted in the plaza, made from cobwork piles of fat-pine.

People were already gathering from other pueblos for market, and many of them slept through the night in the open market-place.

The band played a mournful piece, repeatedly, during the evening, and some rockets were fired--no doubt, the tailing-off of the late fiesta.

[Illustration: CLOSE OF MARKET, TENEJAPA] Market had begun in the morning, as we prepared to leave, but the great plaza was not more than half-full, and there was little that was characteristic.

Noteworthy, however, were the great loaves of salt made at Ixtapa; about the size of old-fashioned sugar-loaves, they were shaped in rush-mats, and showed the marks of the matting on their surface; saws were used to cut off pieces for purchasers.

The _agente_ said that it was not good, being mixed with earth or sand.

He, himself, came from the neighborhood of Tapachula, where quantities of salt are made from the lagoon water.

The salt-water and the salt-soaked earth from the bottom of the lagoon are put into vats and leached, and the resulting saline is boiled in ovens, each of which contains an _olla_.

The industry is conducted by _ladinos_, as well as indians, but the salt is poor.

It was 8:45 when we started, and almost immediately we began a hard climb over limestone, giving a severe test to our poor animals.

At the summit we found a group of indian carriers, who, as usual, stopped at the pass to rest and look upon the landscape.

The view was really beautiful, the little town lying in a curious, level valley, which was encircled by an abrupt slope, and which had been excavated from an almost level plateau.

For some time, we followed this high level, but finally plunged down into a deep gully, where our road passed away to the left in a dry gorge, while to the right, the valley deepened abruptly by a great vertical wall.

When we reached the point of sudden deepening, in the gorge below, we saw water, bursting in volume from the cliff's base.

Dismounting from our horses, and climbing down, we found a magnificent arch of limestone over the emerging stream, the water of which was fresh and cold, and clear as crystal.

The shallow portion of the valley marks the ancient level of the stream.

In some past time, the stream had sunk, cutting a subterranean channel under its old bed, which was left high and dry.

The deep part of the valley may be due to the falling of the roof of rock above the subterranean stream.

Following up the ancient valley, we presently turned into one of its old tributary gorges, coming out into a country well-wooded with pines and oaks.

The whole country hereabouts is composed of monoclines, all the crests presenting one long, gentle slope, with rocks dipping with the slope, and one abrupt short slope, cutting the strata.

The roads, for the most part, follow along the edge of these monoclines, making them unusually long, though easy.

The rocks over which we passed were an olive shaly-sandstone, with notable concentric weathering, limestone, and here and there, red sandstone, abundantly green-spotted.

Indians, everywhere, were burning over fields, preparatory to planting, while the day was clear, the smoke rose in clouds, and at many places we suffered from these field fires.

Twice we passed a point just as the flames leaped from one side of the road to the other, and rode between two lines of blaze.

The fire, burning green branches and stalks, caused thousands of loud explosions, like the rattle of musketry.

Long before we were near it, we caught sight of Cancuc, the beautiful, perched upon its lofty crest.

In San Cristobal, our journey had been matter of conversation among the _mestizos_ and many and dire predictions had been made.

"Ah, yes, it is easy for these gentlemen to do this work here in the _cabecera_, but let them get to Tenejapa, and Cancuc--there it will be another matter; they will be killed upon the journey; if they reach Cancuc, they will never leave the town alive."

The town is built on the edge of a ridge, which drops in both directions, leaving barely room for the placing of houses.

From it, we looked out in every direction over a magnificent landscape.

Cancuc is famous for the insurrection of 1712. Curiously, like the outbreak at Chamula in 1868, it was due to the visions and religious influence of a girl.

Maria Candaleria was the centre and impulse of the whole movement.

Dr. Brinton has thrown the incident, which abounded in picturesque details, and which caused the Spanish government great difficulty, into a little drama, which bears the name of the inspired priestess.

[Illustration: TZENDAL MAN AND WIFE; TENEJAPA] [Illustration: TZENDALS; TENEJAPA] We were now within the district of my friend Valencia.

Two years ago, when we passed through the country of the Mixes, he was the _jefe politico_ of the District of Yautepec; he had been transferred to this state and this district, with his _cabecera_ at Ocosingo.

That town lay far from our course, and we had written Señor Valencia, that we planned to pass through his district, but had not time to visit the _cabecera_.

We named the towns through which we planned to pass, and begged him to send orders directly to the local authorities, instead of trying to communicate with us.

This he had done promptly, and during our stay in his district, everything was done for us without delay.

The _agente_ at Cancuc is a new official, but a man of sense, and sympathy for the indians, among whom he lives.

We arrived at half-past three and had our _mozo_ been on time, might have done some work.

The _agente_ showed us the historic picture in the old church; it is the portrait of a clergyman, whose influence did much to quell the insurrection in 1713. More interesting to us than the old picture, were groups of indians, kneeling and praying.

When they knelt, they touched their foreheads and faces to the ground, which they saluted with a kiss.

Having assumed the attitude of prayer, they were oblivious to all around them, and, curiously, their prayers were in the native language.

The town-house was placed at the disposition of our party, but the _agente's_ bed, in his own house, was given to me.

As I sat writing at the table in his room, the whole town government--a dozen or so in number--stalked in.

Most of them wore the heavy black _chamaras_ made by the Chamula indians.

These were so long that they almost swept the ground.

The faces of the men were dark and wild, and their hair hung in great black shocks down upon their shoulders and backs.

In their hands they held their long official staves.

Advancing to the table where I sat, in the order of their rank, they saluted me, kissing my hand; arranging themselves in a half-circle before my table, the _presidente_ placed before me a bowl filled with eggs, each wrapped in corn-husks, while the first _alcalde_ deposited a cloth filled with a high pile of hot _tortillas_; a speech was made in Tzendal, which was translated by the second official, in which they told me that they appreciated our visit; it gave them pleasure that such important persons should come from such a distance to investigate the life and manners of their humble town; they trusted that our errand might be entirely to our wishes, and that, in leaving, we might bear with us a pleasant memory.

They begged us to accept the poor presents they had brought, while they assured us that, in them, we had our thousand most obedient servants.

And this in Cancuc--the town where we were to have met our death!

At night, the fires on a hundred hills around us made a magnificent display, forming all sorts of fantastic combinations and outlines.

In the evening, the son of the _agente_, who had been to Tenango with a friend, came home in great excitement.

He was a lively young fellow of eighteen years.

At the river-crossing, where they arrived at five in the evening, a black cow, standing in the river, scared their horses so that they could not make them cross; the boy emptied his revolver at the animal, but with no effect; it was clearly a _vaca bruja_--witch cow; an hour and a half was lost before they succeeded in getting their horses past with a rush.

[Illustration: THE TOWN GOVERNMENT; CANCUC] The morning was spent in making pictures.

While still in Yucatan, we heard about the music of Cancuc, and among our views was one of the musicians.

These are three in number, and they head processions at fiestas; the drum, like that we saw at Tuxtla, is cylindrical, with two heads; the _pito_ is the usual reed whistle; the _tortuga_, a large turtle-shell, was brought from Palenque; it is hung by a belt to the player, and is beaten on the lower side with two leg-bones of a deer.

The Cancuc dress is simple.

Men wear the breech-clout, and, when they carry burdens, little else; at other times, they wear short, cotton trousers which hardly reach the knees.

The chief garment is a _camisa_, of native cotton, with a colored stitching at the neck and along the seam where the two edges join; this _camisa_ is of such length that, when girded, it hangs just to, or a little below, the lower edge of the trouser leg.

The belts are home-woven, but are made of cotton which is bought already dyed a brilliant red or yellow.

Women wear woolen belts made by Chamulas; their _enaguas_ are plain, dull blue in color; their _huipíls_ are a dirty white, with a minimum of colored stitching.

The chief industry at Cancuc is raising pigs for market.

At 1:15 we started from the town, and rode down the crest of long, gently-sloping ridges, which seemed interminable.

The rock over which we passed was red sandstone, mottled and streaked with green, red shale, and occasional patches of conglomerate.

Crossing a little stream by a pretty bridge, we made an abrupt ascent, and soon saw the little town, Cuaquitepec, at the base of the opposite hill.

We met many indians carrying great ovoidal jars which were made at Tenango, and which are chiefly used for carrying _chicha_.

This is a fermented drink, made from the sap of sugar-cane, and is much used throughout this state and the adjoining parts of Central America.

We inquired of a girl who carried such a vessel, what she had, and asked to try it.

She gave us a sip in a wee gourd-vessel, holding less than a wine-glass.

Knowing nothing of the price of _chicha_, we gave her six centavos, with which she seemed well satisfied.

A little later, deciding to test the drink again, we stopped a man, who had a vessel of it, and again were given the little cup.

On stating that we wished a centavo's worth, we were much surprised to have him fill a great _jícara_ for the price mentioned.

It seems the little vessel is carried only for sampling, and that a sale is made only after the purchaser has approved the quality.

Reaching Cuaquitepec at five, we rode up to the town-house, that the authorities might know that we had passed.

The place is small and dwindling; there are relatively many _ladinos_, and few indians.

They were expecting us, and seemed disappointed at our refusal to stop.

The shell of the old church, almost ready to fall, suggested past magnificence.

The little modern structure, at its side, is suited to the present needs.

We were vexed at the wanton sacrifice of a great tree, which had stood near the town-house, but whose giant trunk was prostrate, and stripped of its branches.

A man on foot showed us the road beyond the town, and it was moonlight before we reached Citala, where we planned to sleep.

Of the town itself, we know nothing.

The old church is decaying, but in its best days must have been magnificent.

The _presidente_ was absent, but his wife, an active, bustling intelligent _ladino_, expected us, and did everything possible for our comfort.

Eggs, beans, _tortillas_ and coffee made up the supper.

A room, containing a bed for me, and _petates_ on the floor for my companions, was waiting.

When a light was struck more than a dozen great cockroaches were seen running over the wall, none of them less than two inches and a half in length, and of the most brilliant orange and dark brown.

In the morning, a fine chicken breakfast was promptly ready, and the woman had summoned a _cargador_ to be ready for our starting.

She said that in this town there is a considerable indian population, and that these Tzendals are tall and strongly-built, in comparison with those of Cuaquitepec, and other neighboring towns.

She regretted that we could not wait until her husband came, as she had sent him word of our arrival, and was expecting him.

We assured her that she had done everything which he could possibly have done, had he been present, and that we should, with pleasure, report our satisfaction to the _jefe_.

[Illustration: INDIAN CARRIERS RESTING] [Illustration: DRIVING PIGS, NEAR CANCUC] The _cargador_ whom she supplied, was a comfort, after the wretched sluggards whom we had lately had.

With our instruments upon his shoulders, he trotted, like a faithful dog, directly at our side, from start to finish, never showing the least weariness or sense of burden.

Both foot _mozos_ and _arrieros_ through this district carry a mass of _posole_ with them on a journey.

Unlike that which Eustasio and his Zapotec companions carried, the mass here is pure corn, white and moist, being kept wrapped in fresh banana leaves; at every brook-side, a _jícara_ of fresh water is dipped, and a handful of _posole_ is squeezed up in it till thoroughly mixed, when it is drunk.

It tastes a little sour, and is refreshing.

At 11:15, we passed the bridge over the stream on which Chilon is built, and a moment later drew up at the town-house.

Here we regretted that our serious work with the Tzendals was done.

We were received royally, and told that our house was ready.

This was really so, a pretty little house of three good rooms having been cleaned and prepared for our use.

We lay down and napped until the good dinner, which had been started when we had first been seen upon the road, and some time before we reached the village, was ready.

Sitting on the porch of our little house, and looking out over bushes, full of roses, in the garden before us, we rested until the greatest heat of the day was past, when we started, and pushed on over the three leagues that lay between us and Yajalon, where we arrived at near sunset.

The town is large, and, in great part, indian.

The women dressed more gaily than in any other Tzendal town which we have seen; their _huipíls_ were decorated with a mass of bright designs, worked in colored wools or silk.

Here we saw our first Chol, a carrier, passing through the village with his load; in order to make a start upon our final tribe, we had him halted, to take his measurements and picture.

At this town, we stopped at a sort of boarding-house, or traveller's-rest, close by the town-house, kept by a widow with several children.

We impressed upon this good woman the necessity of having breakfast without fail at five o'clock, as we wished to make an early start, stopping at Hidalgo for work during the hotter portion of the day, and pressing on to Tumbala at night.

The poor creature kept me awake all night, making her preparations for the meal, which was to be a masterpiece of culinary art, and at four o'clock routed us all out with the report that breakfast was waiting on the table.

It was a turkey-breakfast, too.

CHAPTER XXVI