# Researches in the Central Portion of the Usumatsintla Valley/Pethá

V.
PETHÁ.
After exploring the route from Chinikihá to Palenque, I found it necessary to return to my headquarters in Tenosique to organize a second expedition, — this time for the exclusive purpose of rediscovering the long since forgotten Lake of Pethá. Having engaged new men and procured fresh provisions, in the middle of August, 1898, I went for the second time to the montería La Reforma, where I had left my luggage. The rainy season in the mean time had set in in full force, the forest paths were soaked, and all the rivers and brooks were swollen. Nevertheless, very fine weather might be expected even at this season.
The first part of the road, which has been built by the firm of Romano from La Reforma to Tzendales, running directly through the wilderness, is excessively bad, because the workmen found no firm, stony soil, but only black forest loam. This ground is so boggy throughout the entire year that not even those who laid out the road ventured to use it with their horses or mules. Each traveller, therefore, at the beginning of this road endeavors to take certain circuitous paths leading from abandoned lumber camps, and only strikes into the actual camino de los Tzendales at the Chocolhá. We too followed the general practice, and when on the 27th of August I was able to start from La Reforma with my men and mules, after crossing the Chinikihá we took the narrow forest trail to the abandoned montería of El Clavo, about three leagues from La Reforma, where the forsaken huts afforded us sufficient shelter from the rain during the night. ​On the second day of our journey, in spite of the wretched, miry, and, at times, also mountainous paths, we reached the Chocolhá, where the neighboring monterías have a ferryman who carries the traveller over in a cayuco. This ferry is called La Culebra and is about five leagues from El Clavo. But about three kilometres before we reached the Chocolhá, we were obliged with much difficulty to ford the greatly swollen Chancalá, for there was no cayuco here. At La Culebra we found protection from the rain at night in an open hut, un galeron, on the left bank. The ferryman's hut was on the opposite bank.
On the morning of the 29th of August we crossed the Chocolhá with the help of a large cayuco, loaded our pack animals, and from this point took the road to Tzendales, which was in a wretched state besides being very mountainous. Finally we took a forest trail on the right, and late in the afternoon we reached the montería of Las Tinieblas, which had been recently established on the right bank of the upper Chocolhá and — as I had learned — was at that time the most advanced post for those who wished to reach the Lake of Pethá. The distance from Culebra to Tinieblas I estimated at five leagues.
Las Tinieblas is a branch of the great lumber enterprise of Troncoso Cilveti y Ca., who had recently begun the exploitation of the forests along the Chocolhá and whose privileges extend to the vicinity of the Lake of Pethá. After I had explained the object of my coming to the encargado of the montería, we agreed to send a messenger on the following day to the administrator of the concession, Mr. Cayetano Irigoyen, who was fortunately just then staying at the neighboring montería La Ilusion, and whom I had informed of my intention when I was in Tzendales. In due time I received the following courteous reply from Mr. Irigoyen:
Troncoso Cilveti y Ca. Corte de Maderas preciosas. Chiapas.
La Ilusion, Agosto 30 de 1898.
Señor Don Teoberto Maler,
    Monteria Las Tinieblas.
Muy Señor mio, — Correspondo con gusto á su atenta de hoy en lá que me pide un práctico para su excursión á la laguna Pethá.
Obsequiando sus deseos, irá mañana nuestro dependiente Francisco Guillen para acompañarlo, aunque sus conocimientos prácticos en esos lugares no son muy precisos, pero sí creo suficientes para llegar bien al punto deseado: pues las mensuras de los terrenos de esta casa, en cuya apertura estuvo él, se aproximan á unos pocos kilómetros de la laguna.
Deseando le sea satisfactoria su visita á estos desiertos me repito su affectísimo amigo y servidor
Cayetano Irigoyen.
Tinieblas is occasionally visited by neighboring Lacantuns, who sell to the employees beautiful bows and arrows, rare birds and other articles; and yet none of the people here had the least idea where the Lake of Pethá was situated or how the Indian settlements could be reached.
As was my custom, I closely questioned the men here whether in their search for trees or in hunting, they had ever found ruins. They declared unanimously that they had never seen a trace of ruins in the neighboring forests.
Mr. Guillen arrived on the 31st of August, and all the details of our projected expedition were discussed most thoroughly with him. As I was fully prepared, we were able to leave Tinieblas on the next day (September 1st). Our saddle and pack animals were, of course, left behind. There were six of us in all. We took with us only a small camera (9 X 12 cm.) and the most necessary provisions. In addition we were all armed.
Following a forest path, we came once more to the camino de los Tzendales and to the halting-place San Antonio, where a large galeron invited repose; but as this San Antonio is barely two leagues from Tinieblas, we continued our march and pitched our tent near a small brook about a league from El Espejito. On the road we met some men with a train of mules coming from Tzendales. They were also carrying with them some bound mozos, who had committed a horrible double murder at Tzendales.
At an early hour on September 2nd we reached the halting-place El Espejito, about four leagues from San Antonio. Here we decided to abandon the road to Tzendales, and turning to the right, we pushed forward into the forest in a southerly or southeasterly direction. Soon we had to ford a not insignificant tributary of the Chocolhá, and in doing so we took advantage of the lime-rock formations of the river bed at this spot. A few steps beyond we found to our great joy an Indian trail which led in exactly the same direction which we had intended to take. Convinced that this trail must lead somewhere, we followed it for two leagues over hills and ravines, coming finally to a pass on the upper Chocolhá (right bank), where, from all appearances, the Lacantuns were accustomed to cross the river.
At this spot the river, flowing over a great bed of lime rock, forms a small waterfall only about one and one-half metres high. In the dry season the Indians probably cross the river by walking on this ledge, but at present the river was so high that such a proceeding was out of the question. In the mean time we encamped on a terrace on the hither side, erecting a small palmleaf hut for the night. Then we felled several small trees of light wood, which we cut into six long pieces and fastened them firmly together by means of tough vines, bejucos (climbing plants). Having finished our small raft, we decided to attempt a crossing a little below the waterfall, at a place where the river forms large, deep pools. ​One of my most skilful men, provided with a long pole and a large roll of bejucos, boldly leaped on to the raft and safely reached the other bank. The improvised bejuco rope was now firmly fastened to either shore.
I had bidden the man search carefully on the opposite bank to see whether the Indians had not concealed a small boat somewhere among the trees projecting into the water. Hardly had he touched the opposite bank when his joyful shout announced that he had found a fine new cayuco. He unfastened the boat, got into it, and brought it to our bank, abandoning the now useless raft to float down the river.
The cayuco had very recently been made from a caoba tree. We tied it firmly to a tree, lest it should be torn away during the night by the chance swelling of the stream. The finding of this cayuco was the second piece of good fortune that befell us on our expedition to Pethá.
There was now nothing further to do, and we cooked a fine Crax rubra, which we had killed on the way. It invariably rained at night.
On the morning of September 3d, after crossing and recrossing the river three times, the passage over the Chocolhá was completed. The little Indian boat was now fastened as securely as possible to the left bank, so that it might serve us on our return. At a distance of only two hundred paces from our crossing-place, we saw a well-built open champa, and a smaller one near by for cooking. Several pottery cooking-utensils lay around, and at a short distance we saw the clearing where the caoba had been felled and the cayuco had been made. Numerous hunter's trails ran in all directions from the hut, which was very confusing to us, but, true to our purpose to move always in a southerly or southeasterly direction, we chose the path which seemed to correspond best to that direction. The sequel proved that we had made a wise choice. We marched on uninterruptedly, crossing numerous brooks and also on the left a large tributary of the Chocolhá. The region became wilder and more mountainous, but we followed the path closely uphill and downhill, though it was often hardly discernible, convinced that it must lead somewhere. Towards noon, as we were already very tired, we made a short halt for rest and food. Then we pushed on again in spite of heavy showers of rain which drenched us to the skin. Finally we came to a small milpa established in the midst of the forest. This was the first sign that we were near an Indian settlement. The rain ceased. We proceeded cautiously. Descending the last declivity, suddenly a silvery expanse of water gleamed between the dark branches of the trees. A few steps further down, the path ended at the waters of the Lake of Pethá. Where the path ended three cayucos were fastened to the trees, and the oars belonging to them were found hidden in the branches. This was the third piece of good luck that had befallen us on our romantic expedition to Pethá. Indeed, of what advantage would it have been to us to have reached the lake without boats ​to navigate it! Fearing rain in the night, we went promptly to work to erect a large champa close to the water, covering it as well as we could with palmleaves and pieces of cloth. We also slung from tree to tree the hammocks which we had brought with us, and soon in grateful repose forgot the hardships of the day.
The distance from Chocolhá to the northern border of the Lake of Pethá was probably only five or six leagues, but as the Indian trail was very much overgrown, we had frequently to use our machetes to make our way through. It was near the close of the day. All was in order. I revelled in the enjoyment of the glorious panorama afforded by the lake, which here forms a large almost circular basin more than two kilometres in diameter. On the distant southern shore, opposite our camping-place, we saw quite a large waterfall plunging into the lake, the sound of which reached us from the distance. Low mountain ranges bordered the southern shore, and in the background towered the mighty crests of the Sierra Madre in what we supposed to be the direction of Ocotzinco.
Suddenly my men who were employed in cooking informed me that a cayuco was passing near the distant southern shore. I attentively looked in that direction, and just as the cayuco passed in front of the waterfall, I distinctly saw its black silhouette with two men standing erect thrown into bold relief against the white background. Soon after the cayuco vanished into one of the coves in that vicinity, the position of which we impressed upon our memories. This was our first sight of human beings, but the Indians on their part had not noticed us. I had the two best cayucos cleaned and all the seams very carefully calked with clay. The necessary oars — canaletes, as they are called here — were also made ready, and on Sunday, September 4th, we rowed for the first time on the lake in our small barks so fortunately acquired. There were only two men in each, while two remained in the camp (Plate V, 1, 2).
However lazy and shiftless the men of Tenosique may be in other respects, they display great aptitude on the water. It seems indeed as if rowing were the only occupation which they do not object to, for they perform all other labor with the greatest reluctance.
We crossed the lake in the direction of the waterfall, where we had seen the small boat disappear (Plate V, 5). We found at the right of the waterfall a small inlet hidden among the trees, to the bank of which several cayucos were fastened. We secured our boats here and followed a rather rocky trail inland. After travelling for about half an hour we came to a large milpa in which bananas, papayos, and sugar-cane were growing, in addition to very tall maize. At the end of the milpa we saw a group of houses, which we approached; but no one came to meet us, and there was no barking of dogs. The stillness of death prevailed on all sides. We entered the houses. There were two large ones intended for the main ​dwellings, which were surrounded by several small huts, which served for kitchens, sleeping-rooms, and shelters for small domestic animals. All were made entirely of poles roofed over with palmleaves. The two main houses and the adjacent huts were filled with household implements of every description, and gave a very complete idea of what the present Maya-Lacantun industry can produce in the way of articles for household use. Such an opportunity of examining all at once the entire domestic establishment, even to the slightest details, of this remarkable people, seemed to me not likely to occur again. Fig. 5. - Calabash Drinking-vessel. ½. I therefore at once set to work to examine everything, even the smallest object, directing my attention particularly to finding utensils that should display drawings which might be regarded as writing, since my many friends in Europe and America are especially interested in this particular question. Many cooking-utensils and water-jars, cazuelas y cántaros, lay scattered around on the floor of the huts and also on the ground outside. Everything was in great
Having thoroughly explored the huts, we intended to continue our journey in the hope of finding inhabited dwellings; but unfortunately the paths branched off in such a manner and were so ill-defined that we were puzzled which way to turn. We therefore decided to return to our camping-place, but not without taking a small supply of young maize ears, elotl, which, when boiled with salt, are an agreeable vegetable. As payment we left a mirror and a red silk handkerchief by the incense vessels. And as we crossed a large ant hill of yellow earth, I made several distinct impressions upon it with my shoes, thinking that if the Indians should come this way they would doubtless notice that strangers had been here and would wish to have intercourse with them. Once more embarked in our frail crafts, we visited the waterfall and slowly rowed past the small islands in this part of the lake, to our camp, where those guarding it had in the mean time somewhat improved the huts and cooked our evening meal.
On September 5th we undertook a thorough exploration of the lake in all directions. This time taking the right hand, that is, following the northern shore, we came to a canal overhung by trees, through which we pushed our way as well as we could. It led to an extremely picturesque, large western basin, a long narrow arm of which branches off in a northwesterly direction (Plate V, 6). This part of the lake is also surrounded on all sides by mountains. The most beautiful vegetation extends close to the water's edge, while in several places perpendicular cliffs rise to a height of twenty to thirty metres (Plate V, 3). We rowed all round this extension, especially examining the cliffs to see if they might not disjilay pictorial representations of some kind. The indigenous vegetation developed on these often fantastically piled up rocks is of special interest. Many of the rarest orchids, bromelia- and agave-varieties, which are seldom met with elsewhere, were here just now at the height of their gorgeous bloom. After the exploration of this extension, we passed back into the transverse arm, which is also diversified by cliffs and islets, in order directly to enter a larger western or southwestern extension, which we likewise explored to its end. I had brought my little camera with me to take small views of the most beautiful spots, although convinced that it is impossible for photography alone to convey an adequate idea of the incomparable, ever-varying beauty of these sheets of water set in vegetation untouched by the hand of man. Small flocks of black aquatic birds, which my men called cuervos de agua (water-ravens), were stirred up here and there by the approach of our cayucos. Strange to say, we did not see a single duck or other species of water-fowl. Probably the birds stay away during the rainy season, because ​the lake has no beach; but I think it probable that ducks, herons, and pelicans frequent the lake in the dry season when the water has fallen perhaps full five metres and large portions of the shore are above water. We found the water very deep everywhere, and therefore used only oars and never poles. Fig. 9. - Lake Pethá: Rock Painting. ⅛. Returning from the southwest arm, we skirted the southern shore and the inlets on that side, and came to an exceedingly beautiful soutliern passage, which led back to the main or large eastern basin. Along this passage — on our left as we passed through — we again saw great cliffs rising perpendicularly from the water. These we also investigated in the hope of finding pictorial representations, and to our great joy we discovered three separate large pictures. The central picture appeared to me to be the most interesting and the best preserved. At a height of one and one-half metres above the surface of the water (in September) a drawing was visible executed in bold black lines, which I conceived to be the representation of the jaws of a monster (the eye was especially distinct) in the act of swallowing a man head foremost. Fig. 10. - Lake Pethá: Rock Painting. ⅛. On the right (from the beholder) a smaller grotesque face develops out of the upper scrollwork, and on the left or at the back the head of the monster terminates in plumage (Fig. 9). The drawing is fifty-two centimetres high and fifty-seven wide. About one metre above this picture a diminutive man (about forty centimetres in height) is very crudely painted, also in black. Further up, a little to the right, are daubed large red hands (Fig. 10).
At the right of the central picture, in spite of the washing away by torrents of rain and the luxuriant vegetation, three and one-half metres above the surface of the water, we could discern the picture of a yellowish foot on a red ground (that is, a picture of the sole of the foot, with the toes pointing upward), and above this in red outlines on a yellowish ground an overturned pot (?) covered with red dots, from the lower edge of which ​project four comblike droppings. This little picture most resembles certain perforated vessels in which the women wash the maize, which has been soaked in lime water. There are several more red hands above the perforated pot and the foot at a distance of about seven metres above the surface of the water. Is it possible that this picture on the rock indicates the grave of a woman ?
This simple symbolic picture may be interpreted thus : The footprint may indicate that the beloved woman has gone "upward." The overturned washing-pot probably shows that she never again will go to the river to wash out her nixtamal (softened maize), to make tortillas for her husband and children.... The red hands raised toward the sky may indicate the last greetings of those she left mourning on earth, when she ascended to celestial regions.
The representation at the left of the central picture is composed of large, broad red stripes, which run high up on the cliff, mostly in vertical lines and form large scrolls here and there. There are also two white or light yellow hands recognizable on a red ground, and adjoining this there is also a series of black lines, which, however, have become very indistinct.
After we had passed through the strait of the picture-rocks, with its poetic beauty, we turned into a bay on the southern shore where a second waterfall, shaded by tall trees, plunges foaming over the rocks into the lake. Then — as night was already approaching — we crossed the large eastern basin to our camp on the northern shore, where in the mean time our meal had been prepared, and we soon resigned ourselves to calm repose. The fact that we had explored this glorious lake even to its remotest corner without the aid of the Indians and without arousing the suspicion of these people, usually so crafty, and that, in addition, we had made use of their own cayucos, was a source of great astonishment to us. It seemed like a dream!
The entire length of the lake from the eastern margin of its large round basin to the extreme end of its western ramifications we estimated at six or seven kilometres. The diameter of the round basin, to which its name Pet-há, = Agua circular, refers, may be two kilometres, while the width of the western arms varies from two hundred to four hundred metres. We found the water of such great depth everywhere that steamships could easily sail on this lake, probably even in the dry season, when the water doubtless falls about five metres.
In the forenoon of September 6th we went again to the Roca de las Pinturas. I took some tracing paper with me in order to make a tracing of the well-preserved black drawings. A large kommchen (wood-destroying insect larvae) nest, which was attached to the cliff below the drawing, we cut to pieces with our machetes. Having thus cleared the drawing, I fastened ​over it with small pieces of wax a large sheet of the transparent paper, and standing on a projecting rock, as best I could, I proceeded to make the tracing. Scarcely had I finished this somewhat trying task when my men told me that an Indian boat was coming toward us. I told the men to quietly await its arrival. I should have preferred not to encounter the Indians at the picture rocks, but there was not time to go elsewhere, and therefore I seated myself on the projecting rock to wait for the cayuco, which was not within my circle of vision. Suddenly the cayuco came around the rocks, and our friendly calls soon brought it alongside of our own. In it were a man, his wife, an infant, and two older children. Hardly had the man noticed that I was standing directly under the picture on the rock than, exhibiting signs of extreme terror, he called out to me in broken Spanish, "No hombre — quítate de ahí — es mi santo — es el Cristo-María de nosotros — cuidado hombre — te come el tigre — vámonos hombre — por eso mucha agua por el mal corazon de mi santo — por eso muy crecidos los rios y la laguna — vámonos — vámonos."
I pacified the man as well as I could, assuring him that we too held this "saint" in great veneration, and had brought him a small offering, so that he would grant us fine weather and abundant maize. After this I stepped into my cayuco, gave my hand to the man and asked him his name. Chankin, — chichan, abbreviated chan (tšitšan, tšan) = small; kin (k'in) = sun, priest, — he answered. Then I explained to him that we had come to see the lake and to visit his countrymen who were living in its vicinity, and also that we would like to purchase a few pretty things as well as food of them, for which purpose we had brought with us useful articles: knives, fish-hooks, handkerchiefs, mirrors, and salt, of which they never have a sufficient supply. On telling him that in our search for their dwellings we had come across a large group of houses full of all kinds of utensils, but without inmates, Chankin replied that the houses were those of his brother who had died recently. And what did he die of? "Quien sabe, Señor? — Por el mal corazon de su santo," the man answered angrily.
Chankin, who had learned a little Spanish in his frequent intercourse with the neighboring monterías, was a robust man in middle life, and was dressed in a shirt-like garment of coarse cotton. Long raven-black hair surrounded his beardless face, which was of a genuine Indian cast. His wife was of smaller frame, and was also dressed in cotton; her face and arms were badly bitten by flies. A fine set of bow and arrows wrapped in bark lay on the bottom of the cayuco. I asked the Indian to sell them to me, which he did for two pesos.
Chankin first took a path to the large waterfall. The river, which was very full at this season, rushed with tremendous force downward over terraced rocks into the lake. Our Indian took his way unconcernedly through the midst of this mass of water. I had had a stout walking-stick cut for myself, and there was nothing for me to do but to follow the man or to stay behind. Bracing myself firmly with my staff against the rocks, I too walked through the waterfall in extreme danger of being hurled into the foaming depths by the impetus of the rushing water. Taking off their shoes, three of my men followed very reluctantly. We then went on over desperately rough trails, soon reaching the same river (as I have reason to suppose) at a spot where it was spanned by the long and thick trunk of a tree, which at this time was about eighty centimetres below the surface of the water. At this place the river was several metres deep and impassable; so our Indian went straight over the smooth tree-trunk, in doing which the prehensile power of his toes was of great advantage to him. By the aid of a long pole in one hand and a shorter staff in the other, I succeeded with extreme difficulty in crossing. My men also made their way across by the aid of poles. Soon we had to cross the river for a third time, and again on the long and thick trunk of a tree, which this time, by way of variety, was suspended high above the water. We also successfully passed through this third and last Orphean ordeal to which Chankin subjected us.
On our way, however, between the first and second tree-bridges, we had caught glimpses among the trees on our right of "the dead brother's" large milpa, and I told my grumbling men that we should under no conditions go back over the frightful path by which Chankin had brought us, but that on our return we would clear a path to this milpa and then return to our landing-place by the trail we already knew.
After crossing the river for the third time, the path improved. We might have travelled about an hour, when we heard the barking of dogs and the hollow sound of conch-shells, Strombus gigas, with which the Indians greeted our arrival. The forest opened. We entered a milpa of tall and luxuriant maize, and from its group of huts Chankin's brother-in-law, el suegro, named Māx (mās) came to meet us surrounded by other Indians, including women and children. I saluted Māx, and explained my purpose in coming, while Chankin reported to him in Maya all the circumstances under which he had found us, so that I had no doubt that Chankin had been despatched to reconnoitre, purposely taking with him his wife and little children to cover his intentions.
Māx was not at all overjoyed at our arrival, but resigned himself to the inevitable. He promised us provisions — maize bread, potsol, māxcal, etc. - for the next day, when I was to visit him again with my men. For the present I found myself compelled to return as quickly as possible to the camp, as the day was near its end and we were threatened with a ​downpour of rain. We therefore took our leave, and lost no time in reaching the nearest tree-bridge. We notched the slippery surface of the trunk with our machetes, so that this passage lost much of its peril. Then after reaching the point which brought us in line with the dead brother's milpa, we cut our way directly through the forest and without much difficulty reached the abandoned group of huts. Before we continued our journey, however, I permitted my men to take an abundant supply of ears of maize, bananas, and sugar-cane to punish the fellow who had dragged us over waterfalls and tree-trunks to his suegro.
Amid a light shower of rain we reached the landing-place. The last rays of the sun disappearing behind the mountains lighted us as we rowed over the mirror-like surface of the beautiful lake to our camp, where those who had been left behind had spent the day not without anxiety on our account. Of course my companions never wearied of recounting to their comrades all the experiences of this day. Each one considered himself a hero.
On the next day (September 7th), leaving but a single man to guard the camp, we all crossed the lake to visit Māx and his associates. We intended to take our noon meal there, in order to have leisure to observe the habits and customs of the Indians and to take some small photographs. After crossing the tree bridge we succeeded in killing a black crax.
As we neared the huts we heard the hollow, somewhat weird sound of the conch-shells with which Māx and his associates celebrated our coming. I greeted Māx and the assembled Indians cordially, explaining to them that we would like to spend the day with them, and as we had shot a kambul, would they lend us a vessel in which to cook it? Upon this one of the women brought us a large pot, and my men began to prepare the bird.
Then I told the Indians that I had brought them a few presents, articles which might be useful to them in their remote forests, and I at once proceeded to distribute the salt among the men who were present. Each one received a gourd-bowl full. I also gave each man a large knife and several kinds of fish-hooks. As for the women and girls, they received gay silk and cotton kerchiefs, as well as silver ear-pendants and pretty mirrors.
Although this people, so simple in its wants, is incapable of genuine joy, a certain feeling of general satisfaction, nevertheless, became evident among them. Meanwhile I had set up the small camera in order to take a few photographs before this pleasant mood should vanish. As my brightly varnished camera with its brass mountings was a pretty sight when set up on its slender tripod, the people were not at all frightened by this magic box. I succeeded in taking several photographs, which in spite of their ​small size (9 X 12 cm.) give a distinct picture of the features and dress of the men, women, and cliildren (Plate VI, 3, 4, 5).
The men wear an ample shirt-like garment, of strong, somewhat coarse cotton material, which reaches down to the calves of their legs ; but on their hunting expeditions or on journeys they wear a garment of extra-coarse fleecy material. The women wear an undergarment which reaches from the hips down over the calves of their legs, and the shirt-like upper garment falls over this. Each woman is adorned with a thick bunch of necklaces or rather strings of seeds. They are made of hard, usually black, seeds mixed with cylindrical bones, teeth, small snail-shells, or whatever else they can obtain.
The uncut hair of the men falls about their faces, which sometimes gives them a wild and leonine aspect. The women part their hair in the middle, exactly like European women, and at the end of the braid they fasten a tuft of gay bird-feathers, wings, and breasts. All the women have their ear-lobes pierced; so they could delightedly insert the ear-rings (of English manufacture) themselves or confidingly allow me to insert them. Neither men nor women seemed to wear shoes of any kind.
Māx's premises consisted of a large main hut, where he lived with his wives and children. This was surrounded by four smaller, half-open huts, some intended for cooking, and some for the accommodation of guests, and one was devoted exclusively to the incense vessels with faces of gods.
Here also was an abundance of cooking-vessels and implements of every sort, and the inmates had hammocks made of agave cord for sleeping at night and also for resting by day. The hammocks of the Lacantuns are very different from those which are used elsewhere in Mexico. They do not consist of mesh-work, but a system of cross cords holds the lengthwise cords together. They are also shorter than the Mexican ones, but are broad enough. The people do not make their things for sale, but only for their own use, so that it was utterly impossible for me to obtain one of their very prettily made hammocks.
The wooden implement with which the women weave the cotton cloth, la manta, is also interesting. An old woman was at work on a piece of material, and I wanted to buy the implement together with the partly finished web, but she obstinately refused to sell it. The women, however, gave me some of their seed necklaces as mementos, and I requested the men to bring a few of their beautifully made bows and arrows to my camp, promising to pay well for them.
The bows (Fig. 11) are usually made of guayacan, or xibé, or else of chicozapote. The length of the men's bows varies from one hundred and fifty to one hundred and seventy centimetres, that of the larger boys from one hundred and twenty-five to one hundred and thirty-five centimetres. All the bows are thicker towards the middle and taper very much toward ​ Fig. 11. - Bow and Arrows, Lacantun Indians a, bow; b, bird bolt; c, wooden-pointed arrow for samll game; d, stone-pointed monkey arrow; e, stone-pointed arrow for large game. ⅛.the ends. Each end is firmly wound with a small cord, which is covered with resin, but the horns themselves are left free to receive the end loops of the bow-string, which is made of an agave cord, the windings of the small cord preventing the string from slipping when the bow is drawn. The bows are apparently straight, but on closer examination they are found to be very slightly curved. In using one of these bows, the rule must be followed of drawing the bow not — as one would be inclined to do — in the direction of the curve, in which case it would very easily break, but always in the opposite direction, that is to say, on the side of the outward curve (convex side). The Indians usually hold the bow horizontally before shooting, and only at the moment of aiming and of shooting is it placed in a perpendicular position. The arrows are only a little shorter than the bow. They are of different kinds, according to the game to be shot, but all, excepting the bird bolts, have this in common: the forward part, corresponding to about a third of the length of the arrow, consists of a cylindrical or a square rod of hard wood, which is deeply inserted in the reed shaft, carrizo or caña brava, and firmly lashed at the place of insertion and also at the invisible lower end. The reed shaft, which forms two-thirds of the length of the arrow, has at its butt the notch for receiving the string, and on both sides of the notch there is a feather, which is firmly bound at its upper and lower ends to the shaft, with twine smeared with black resin. If too broad, the feathers are cut out about the centre. The little hard-wood rods simply end in sharp points, which suffice for killing fish and small birds, or else flint-heads, varying in size, are inserted, and these are also firmly lashed at the place of insertion with cords covered as usual with black gum. The arrows, which are intended for killing monkeys, have the forward piece of hard wood deeply barbed, so that the animal cannot shake off or pull out the arrow. Lastly, the arrows which are intended to stun a bird only for the time being, so that it can be caught unhurt, have a little conical piece of wood in place of a flint head.
The bow is bound up with the arrows, and the ​bundle is protected by a covering of bark (majahua, as it is called in Tabasco) which is usually stripped from young ceiba-trees. Fig. 12. - Package of Flint Flakes, from which Arrow-points are made. ⅔. The art of cleaving flint into thin layers has been preserved up to the present day by this secluded little nation. It appears that in some cases the cleaving is facilitated by previously heating the stone red-hot, but this is not always done. The cleaving is effected by means of a piece of deer-horn, especially prepared for this purpose, and by means of this elastic medium the blow of the mallet is transferred to the edge of the stone. The layers thus obtained (Figs. 12, 13) then receive the desired shape and an edge (Fig. 14), by means of a piece of an old knife (now made of iron). Inasmuch as the Indians also find many discarded bottles in the abandoned monterías, they use the glass of these bottles in place of flint. They make the arrow-points of this broken glass, which does not admit of cleaving.
There were only a few domestic animals to be seen on Māx's premises. The only mammals were dogs, which are always tied up, and belong to the present modern breed. Among the birds I noticed the large green parrots with blue heads, which occur exclusively in these forests. They are therefore called los loros de los Lacandones or loros palencanos. There were also several specimens of a beautiful small Coturnix species, called bolonchac, confined in small bejuco cages.
Fig. 13. - Flint Flakes for Chipping into Arrow-points. ⅔.
Hoping to throw light upon the still more important question as to the kind of pictorial representations still made by these Indians and whether they are of a hieroglyphic character, I looked about me very carefully in Māx's huts, but of course without exciting the suspicion of the people. I regret to say that nothing bearing upon this matter could be found. The fact that the Indians of Pethá live so scattered that each family is about one league (or an hour's journey) from the other adds much to the difficulty of solving this question. Fig. 14. - Flint Arrow-point, Lacantun Indians. ⅔. It would be necessary to ascertain whether these people are anywhere grouped in villages, for in that case there would be more prospect of obtaining specimens of drawings.
In the mean time my men had deliciously prepared the crax, and the women supplied us with the necessary tortillas, which, made of new maize and half roasted, were especially palatable. At my special request, which I had also made on the preceding evening, they brought us large gourds full of balché (baltšé), a refreshing beverage made from the bark of a tree.
While we were satisfying our hunger with this food and drinking with it the national drink, balché, the men, having adorned their heads with bands dyed pink with chacavanté, withdrew into the huts containing the incense-vessels, to pray. The prayer consisted of monotonous, unintelligible cries, its purpose doubtless being to entreat the gods not to regard with anger the reception of strangers, and to avert any evil consequences that might arise from our visit. The women took no part in this religious ceremony.
At last the time came for us to depart, and we accordingly took leave of Māx and the other Indians. Before doing so, however, I administered to a young girl very ill with fever a small dose of quinine, which she took tearfully. To an older woman covered with ulcers (elephantiasis?) we could only recommend a draught which she could make herself of the sarsaparilla occurring in that region. With these exceptions the people were all in good health.
We remained four days more (September 8th, 9th, 10th, and llth) on the shore of that beautiful lake, over whose waters we never grew weary of rowing. The Indians made us several visits, bringing us food and enabling us to buy of them several additional sets of their handsome bows and arrows.
Māx, whose name means "howling-monkey" [Stentor niger), was not a frank, kindly-disposed man. He very evidently exercised a certain repressing influence over the others, who showed much greater openness in their ​intercourse with us when Māx was not present, and willingly gave me all the information I desired.
I questioned the people very closely as to whether they knew of any ruins in the forests of this region. Unfortunately, absolute ignorance seemed to prevail among them in regard to the matter. Indeed, I had already convinced myself of the fact that cities built of stone had never existed in the neighborhood of Pethá. I only learned that at no great distance there were other smaller lakes: Hopethá to the southeast; the lake called Sib to the southwest, and between Pethá and Tinieblas another called Chichan-pethá, or "little round water."
To my question as to how many kinds of fish were to be found in the lake of Pethá, they answered five, —
* Lú = el pezcado bobo, bagre.
* Sohóm = una especia de mojarra.
* Sactan = "sardina " (sactan= white-colored).
* Chaclau = mulula of the Spaniards (chacil-au? [tšakil-au?] = with red dots, or red collar).
* Dsibal, said to be quite a large fish (dsibal means '"marking").
During the last days of our stay Heaven favored us with the most glorious weather. On the 12th of September we began our return march, without however taking leave of our Lacantun friends, since they had expressed their intention of accompanying us as far as Tinieblas. Arrived at the Paso del Chocolhá, we made ourselves comfortable in the large champa belonging to the Indians, who likewise arrived toward evening. We had killed another crax, and the Indians immediately after their arrival had very dexterously caught some fish, so that we had plenty of food. In addition, Māx had made me a present of a gourd full of honey.
One of the Indians, while he was cooking the fish, became confidential and said to me in broken Maya-Spanish: "I am sorry that you did not come also to my house — that you only went to see Māx, where I could not serve you. I too have maize at my house — you should have wanted for nothing at my house. Now that your heart is friendly towards me, I will tell you — that I also have a wife. Since you gave pretty ear-rings to all the women, but not to my wife — because she was not there — I will now ask you to give me a pair of ear-rings for my wife — that her heart may be made glad!"
I was very glad to learn, in this way, that the things I had given the people had evidently pleased them. Of course I picked out a pretty pair of ear-rings from what was left, and added a red silk handkerchief to make glad the wife of so excellent a husband.
There was a tremendously heavy fall of rain during the night, but early in the morning we succeeded in crossing the Chocolhá by means ​of the cayuco. Allowing ourselves but little time for rest, in spite of the soaked condition of the trails, we arrived late in the afternoon at Tinieblas, where the people regarded us with great respect and thought it wonderful that we, coming from a distance in the middle of the rainy season, had found the lake which they had never even seen.
The Indians made various purchases in the montería, and the very next day returned to their wilderness. We rested a day, and then set out on our return to La Reforma, where, when at last we arrived, we were, as always, most courteously received by Mr. Molina and the other gentlemen.
Here I dismissed my men from Tenosique, who had shown discontent during the whole expedition, and accepted Mr. Molina's kind invitation to go down the Chacamáx in one of the cayucos of the firm of Romano, as far as the Usumatsintla and to Montecristo, lying just below the confluence of the two rivers. Thence the return by steamer to my little house at our station in Tenosique offered no further difficulties.