# Pictures of life in Mexico/Volume 2/Chapter 33

Contents
CHAPTER XXXIII.
TREASURE-SEEKERS AND CONTRABANDISTAS.
The sim was setting gorgeously over the arid rocks and plains of the mining district lying between Jesus-Maria and Chihuahua, in the far north of Mexico—casting, even in its decline, an intense light and burning heat over the scene around—when a young man rose from the sandy earth at the bottom of a small cliff, in the shade of which he had been resting, and taking up a pick-axe, prepared to enlarge a cavity he had formed in the ground, before the evening should overtake him. He had begun his operations on this spot at an early hour in the morning, and had worked on till the heat at noon became so ​insupportable, that he was glad to take shelter in the friendly nook; where he had slept, forgetful of the ill success attending his labours.
This young man was a Mestizo, or half-caste, called Lope Cluca, much handsomer in figure and feature than Mexicans of his class commonly are; though it was evident all care of his person was fast giving way to the slovenliness and neglect which his circumstances and occupation prompted: and which might be seen in such perfection among the Indians and earth-breakers, at a little distance beyond him. His hair was long and matted, his clothes were coarse, soiled, and much worn, his hands and face were darkened by the sun beyond their ordinary brown hue, and his beard was untrimmed; nevertheless, his fine figure and manly countenance sufficiently distinguished him from the dirty and repulsive looking beings, his companions. He had left the city of Mexico many months before, in the hope of mending his fortunes in these sterile northern districts, where rich veins of silver were often found by the meanest adventurers; and he had confidently assured the pretty Teresa. Alxarra—for whose sake he had left the ​capital and his friends—that he would soon return laden with store of riches sufficient for them all, and which should enable them to fulfil the dearest wishes of their hearts without apprehensions for the future.
To tell of the hazards he encountered and the privations he endured on his journey would occupy too much space. Suffice it to say he was robbed and maltreated by a band of ruffianly ladrones before he had proceeded a day's journey; and it required all his fortitude to continue his route; but a friend in need assisted him in his extremity, and replenished his empty purse. He had been delayed and victimized by passport-officers at the gates of second-rate towns; had been clapped into a dungeon for losing a carta of safety; and, while there, a holy padre had well nigh frightened him into purgatory, to extort the little money he had secreted in the inner folds of his linen. He had been almost reduced to beg his way as he ascended the country; and suffered from hunger and thirst, nakedness and oppression, from time to time. At length he arrived in the silver regions, and commenced his treasure-hunting toil with the utmost energy and determination, hoping to discover ​a vein of the precious ore, and make the best possible bargain with the administradores and agents in the neighbourhood, either for its sale or future working. His success, thus far, had been but scanty; he was only enabled to procure sufficient metal to furnish him with common necessaries: the great object of his search remained as yet unaccomplished. Sometimes his expectations had been excited to the highest pitch by brilliant appearances: beds of compact white sand and clay had mocked his ardent anticipations; white earth, intermixed with stray particles of silver, had often dazzled his sight; but these only served to enhance his disappointment, and render him the more impatient of delay.
As Lope Cluca hastily turned over the gravel at his feet on the evening in question, murmuring and almost despairing of success (only supported, in fact, by sweet thoughts of his absent Teresa Alxarra), his eye was arrested by what appeared to be a shining yellow substance, partially' covered with the clay and sand he had turned over. With eager impatience he seized upon it; but found, to his dismay, that the yellow tinge was caused by the rays of the sun reflected from a ​transparent stone imbedded in a ball of earth. He was about to hurl it indignantly away, when a ray of unusually bright light from the surface of the stone caught his eye: the piece of spar was strangely luminous, he thought; he turned it over and over in his hand broke away the earth surrounding it; and the stone shone more splendidly than ever: it was a diamond of most unusual size, and of the most dazzling brilliancy!
He threw down his pick-axe, and abandoned himself for the moment to the extravagance of his joy. "At last!" he exclaimed,—"at last, my toils and privations are rewarded; and I shall be enabled to return a rich man to my native city, and to Teresa. Gracious Mother of Heaven! what happiness!" He had the presence of mind to check himself immediate, however, and to cast a hurried glance around to see if he had been observed—well aware that the utmost caution would be required to conceal his acquisition from his fellow-workmen. On turning to look at them, however, he concluded that they were too much occupied with their own labours to have noticed him; and he returned to his tent at dusk under the impression that his emotion ​had been unperceived; taking care to bring with him his pick-axe and tools, as though nothing had occurred; and concealing his newfound treasure, in a private pocket about his person.
He returned to his labours on the following day, endeavouring to assume as staid and demure a countenance before his comrades, as he could, to disarm suspicion. He began to dig, too, as usual, but made little progress in his task; his mind being too fully occupied with joyful anticipations, to bestow much attention on his now needless exertions; and long before sunset (for the first time since his arrival) he had packed up his implements and hied to his retreat, to meditate upon his good fortune, and on the readiest method to make it available for future happiness.
​This man was of Spanish extraction, and styled himself "Don" Manuel—by which title he was well known in the district. His circumstances were desperate when he arrived in the silver regions, for his life had been one of the utmost dissipation; and he was totally unused to labour. It suited him better to wander about the neighbourhood, keenly observant of the success of others for no honest purpose: it was during one of these rambling excursions that he had been an unseen witness of Lope's discovery; and he now believed he had found the opportunity he had long desired, of enriching himself at the expense of another.
It was no part of Don Manuel's policy personally to effect the villany he had designed, so he cast about for some associate who would undertake the execution of the plot, for a share of the booty. His choice fell upon one Cayan, an Indian of great strength of body and ferocity of disposition; he trusted that, when the treasure should be secured, he could frame a pretext to overreach his comrade, and appropriate their acquisition to his own use.
While Lope Cluca was enjoying his happy prospects, these scoundrels were holding a ​consultation together, as to the means for accomplishing their nefarious purpose.
"I tell you," exclaimed Don Manuel to his companion, "that Lope placed the diamond in his bosom, and it will be necessary first——"
"Necessary to find it out, Dios! Leave that to me," said Cayan, interrupting him. "I'll do the business without stumbling over it, I warrant; but what is your share of it to be, my zapilote (buzzard)?"
"Ave Maria!" answered the Don. "My part will be to watch him, and give you the signal at the fitting opportunity: you understand, danta (wild boar)."
"Quick then, Don Manuel," said the other, "or I wait not for you. San Miguel! already I scent his blood, and I long to see it! Ave Señora, I think I shall do without you!"
"I will be quick; and you—you must do it effectually!"
"Effectually? De mi! By tomorrow night——"
"Yes! By tomorrow night the diamond is our own!"
On the evening of the following day Lope Cluca was accosted by the wily Don Miguel at the foot of the cliff, and detained in ​conversation by him till nightfall when with a bland smile he bade him adieu; and Lope bent his steps towards his tent as usual.
He had not proceeded far on his way, however, when he stumbled over a large stone lying in the path; and directly afterwards felt himself struck on the head with a heavy blunt instrument; so violentty, that on the blow being repeated he fell to the ground completely stunned, the blood issuing from his ears and temples in copious streams.
"That has finished his treasure-seeking, I swear!" exclaimed a hoarse voice, as the Indian bent over him; and, after rifling his pockets, tore away from his breast, the small bag which held the diamond.
The flow of blood from Lope's temples, however, proved the means of recovering his consciousness, and he was soon able to move with difficulty. On recovering his faculties he heard the sound of voices at a little distance, and thought he could distinguish these words uttered in a tone he had heard before:—
​"Do you think Cayan is a fool?" was the rejoinder. "Jesus Maria! No! I see what you want very well. Dios! You deserve no share of the booty at all, for your pains!"
"But the diamond is mine!" exclaimed the other. "I first told you of it. I will pay you jour share equitably; but the diamond is mine!"
Here a struggle ensued between the contending parties: several blows were struck, and a heavy fall was followed by a cry of suffering, and a groan; then there was silence broken by the sound of retiring footsteps. Lope contrived to bandage his temples with a piece of linen he had torn from his dress; and with great difficulty dragged himself—fainting and exhausted from loss of blood—to the neighbourhood of the miners habitations, where he arrived at a late hour of the night.
It was reported betimes on the following day in the district, that Cayan, the Indian, had attacked and robbed Lope Cluca and Don Manuel, and had escaped; also that the body of the latter had been found, close beside the Niña cliff, quite dead.
Intense was the disappointment and exasperation of Lope Cluca, as he recovered from the ​effects of his wounds, thus to have the cup of bliss dashed from his lips. He lingered for a while around the scene of his former success incapable of exertion, and careless of what might befall him. Then, summoning all his remaining resolution, he determined to remove to a distant part of the mining regions; there to recommence a career of toil and privation. After two days wearisome travel, therefore, he arrived within the precincts of another settlement, and resumed his labours. This district was less productive than the last, and far more exposed to the attacks of hostile Indians, also; still, he determined to labour on and succeed in his aims, or lose his life in the attempt.
One bright morning he left his humble couch earlier than usual, and had strayed to a considerable distance on the other side of the mountain before he became aware of it. He was abstractedly watching the vapour, as it still lay in shady spots, or was absorbed in others by the heat of the newly-risen sun, when his attention was arrested by seeing, in a slight hollow in the sand before him, the body of a tall, muscular Indian, awfully bruised and mangled, with a mass of congealed and darkened blood around it. The sight at once ​convinced Lope that the inimical Indians were not far off, and that the butchery before him was their work.
On approaching the body, he perceived from various indications that the fatal affray must have taken place on the preceding evening; and at the same moment recognised the features of Cayan, the accomplice and assassin of Don Miguel! It was evident that the wretched man had made a desperate resistance; his left hand still clutched a large lock of the hair of an antagonist; and his right was clenched as though yet grasping his weapon. His clothes were tattered and his pockets were torn away; but as Lope stood over him, he saw a small cotton bag peeping forth from the breast of his shirt, which the Indians must have overlooked in the darkness. He eagerly seized and tore it open, and with breathless haste discovered that it contained the missing diamond! Joy choked his utterance, tears mounted to his eyes, and in a transport of gratitude he knelt upon the ground, and gave thanks to God and the Virgin.
Lope Cluca did not remain long in the silver regions, after this happy sequel to his adventure. He forthwith made arrangements for ​exchanging the small amount of ore he had collected for its value in money and only waited till an opportunity should present itself of returning to the capital, with such an escort as might ensure safety on the road. He was fortunate enough to encounter a company of muleteers carrying barras of silver, with whom he set out in high spirits; once more taking care to conceal his diamond about his person, and holding little communication with the members of the troop, that his treasure might sustain no further risk.
After innumerable alarms of robbers, and a few stray encounters, in which the travelling party had the advantage, they arrived in good time in the capital, where Lope at once proceeded to barter his diamond for a large sum of money—only a tithe of its value, indeed, but which amply contented him. The fortunate Mestizo—now elevated to the dignity of a caballero, or gentleman—was shortly afterwards united to his loved Teresa Alxarra, amid the congratulations of those relatives whom he was in future enabled to maintain in affluence. It was often remarked, moreover, in after years, that he was never better pleased than when relating to them, and to his family, ​the strange history of the twice-found diamond and his past suffering's in the silver regions.
The following anecdote will illustrate the life led by the contrabandistas, or smugglers, who abound in such numbers in Mexico:—
It was a merry time within the low double roomed rancho of Antonio Pulf, the contra bandista. A table of goodly dimensions occupied the largest floor; and around it were seated a dozen swarthy adventurers, or more, in the most free-and-easy positions, and with various degrees of dignified joviality visible on their rugged countenances. The table was strewed with bowls of aguardiente and pulque, and platters of meats and tortilla cakes; the latter of which were smoking hot from the griddle, and the former burning hot with chilé pepper, as a matter of course. It was a grand occasion: the gang had been long accustomed to carry on their illicit traffic in defiance and contempt of the government; and they had just concluded a transaction on a more magnificent scale than ever. The goods had been reconsigned almost immediately on the arrival of their smuggling vessel; they had received the money, together with an unlimited allowance of native​distilled spirit; on account; and they were now met to feast themselves on the fruits of their success.
The room in which they were assembled was large, but crowded to inconvenience with tackle and spars of coasting-vessels, kegs, barrels, boxes, and bales, which they kept as a partly concealed, partly avowed stock in trade. On some jagged and broken shelves stood several large canvass bags, of questionable appearance, only imperfectly covered by the nets and fragments of sails drawn over them. On one side of the apartment was a huge chest, from under the slightly raised cover of which gleamed the point of a sword, and the muzzle of a rifle barrel; it contained, beside arms, different articles of clothing, three or four boat-hooks, the like number of coils of cordage, and a couple of dark lanterns, seldom used. Against the other wall of the building were ranged a few barrels, used on the present occasion as side tables; though it was no difficult matter, from their suggestive appearance, to hazard a shrewd guess as to the real quality of their contents, could their roughly-nailed covers have been raised. Boxes and bales were stowed into corners, and were even thrust ​under the large table at which their proprietory were seated; for the business was prosperous and the stock in hand usually a large one. The room behind was only a repetition of the other, but still more densely crammed with similar articles.
The hilarity of the festive meeting was just at its height, and the capitaz, Pulf—a stalwart, tall, dark, hairy-faced man—was raising a brimming cup of spirit to his lips, toasting success to the cause, when a young contrabandista entered the apartment in haste, with news that the custom-house officers were out on the coast a little below, and had seized upon several hogsheads of theirs, by chance remaining there, as property confiscated to the government.
In place of this intelligence causing consternation among the band, however, they received it with a most uproarious burst of laughter, and, after quaffing another cup of aguardiente each, they rose to their feet and quitted the rancho; good-humouredly swearing, by St. Peter and St. Paul, that they would trundle the meddling officials inside their barrels, bring them to their own quarters there, and cook and eat them for supper, as ​a fitting-conclusion to their day's rejoicing. They well knew that the custom-house officers of the government were not in sufficient numbers, either there or anywhere else, to offer more than a show of opposition to a determined band of contrabandistas!
They sallied forth to the beach at once; and the half-dozen custom-house men hastily prepared to make good their claim to the hogsheads they had seized. It was a moonlight night; and, in a short time, the coast echoed with hoarse shouts and execrations, and the brilliant light shone upon uplifted arms and eager combatants. But the skirmish was only of very brief continuance: the government officers had to contend against fearful odds; they were none of the bravest by nature; and, at the close of the first onset, they turned to fly. The smugglers followed, in a resolute manner, at their heels; and would no doubt have overtaken and captured them, but that their steps were not quite so steady and certain as usual, by reason of the liquor they had drunk. As it was, they were only able to take one prisoner, who had been slightly wounded in the fight; and him they seized and drove ​rudely before them as they retraced their way to the rancho.
Immediately on their arrival they mounted the poor officer on the table, among the bottles, cups, and platters; and held a drunken consultation as to what punishment should be inflicted on the prisoner.
"Swing him up to one of the beams, at once," shouted a brutal-looking-fellow with a thick neck, a bushy exposed throat, and a red handkerchief over his eyes.
"Make him stand in a keg of spirits, and set fire to it," exclaimed another, with a sly look, and an admixture of the humorous in his composition.
"Tie his limbs to a coil of rope, and let us pull both ends of it," quietly suggested a third, who could scarcely stand, from the effects of his potations.
"Hang him heels uppermost, and sprinkle his face with vitriol, till we see what he looks like," benevolently added a fourth member of the party.
They were accordingly about to haul him from the table in the rudest manner, to carry either one or other of these recommendations into effect, when the capitaz, Antonio ​Pulf, interfered—exclaiming with a loud voice, that they would give the rascal his choice either to join the band immediately, or to suffer death by one of the above-named processes.
The poor fellow eagerly availed himself of the opportunity of saving his life, and lost no time in accepting the most favourable proposal of the leader. Then the smugglers surrounded and led him before Pulf, who was seated on the only chair in the room; he mounted upon it, and from that elevation, delivered the following impressive charge to his newly-elected follower.
"Ave Maria! Thou, who callest thyself Martin Valio, late an officer in the service of our foolish and oppressive government, art now fully admitted a member of our band. Thou art bound to obey its laws, to execute its orders, to respect its interests, and to preserve its secrets. By night or by day, on sea or on shore, far away or near, thou wilt consider thyself amenable to this agreement, and serve us faithfully; or thy life shall answer it. If thou dost prove treacherous, our vengeance will overtake thee when thou dost least expect it: our emissaries will be ever near when thou ​knowest it not; no distance will weaken our control; and no power will shield thee from our resentment. On the other hand if thou dost serve us faithfully and well, we will defend and support thee, and thou wilt have a due share of our booty with the rest. In the name of our Blessed Lady of Guadaloupe, dost thou accept of these proposals?"
"In the name of the Holy and Blessed Virgin, I do accept them!" was the instant reply of the new-made contrabandista.