In Indian Mexico | Page 8

on the place. And now, he was
again without a home and his time, money, and labor were lost.
Ernst accompanied us to Tehuacan. We rented three horses and a man
on foot went with us to bring them back to the village. And for the
whole we paid the regular price of eighty-seven centavos--twenty-five
each for the animals, and twelve centavos for the man--something less
than the twenty pesos demanded the day before at Tehuacan.

CHAPTER II
WE START FOR GUATEMALA
(1896)
The evening we were at Mitla, Señor Quiero came hurrying to our
room and urged us to step out to the corridor before the house to see

some Mixes. It was our first glimpse of representatives of this little
known mountain people. Some thirty of them, men and women, loaded
with fruit, coffee, and charcoal, were on their way to the great fair and
market, at Tlacolula. They had now stopped for the night and had piled
their burdens against the wall. Wrapping themselves in their tattered
and dirty blankets, they laid themselves down on the stone floor, so
close together that they reminded me of sardines in a box. With a
blazing splinter of fat pine for torch, we made our inspection. Their
broad dark faces, wide flat noses, thick lips and projecting jaws, their
coarse clothing, their filthiness, their harsh and guttural speech,
profoundly impressed me and I resolved to penetrate into their country
and see them in their homes, at the first opportunity.
Our friend the padre never tired of telling how much more interesting
Guatemala was than Mexico; he could not understand why any man of
sense should waste his time in Mexico, a land so large that a dozen
students could not begin to solve its problems, while Guatemala, full of
interesting ruins and crowded with attractive Indians, was of such size
that one man's lifetime could count for something. His tales of indian
towns, life, dress, customs, kindled enthusiasm; but it was only after
thinking over the Mixes, that I decided to make a journey to Guatemala.
The padre, himself, could not accompany me, being a political refugee,
but he had told me Ernst should go with me. After three months'
consideration my plan was made. We would start from Oaxaca
overland via the Mixes country; we would everywhere keep in the
mountains; in Chiapas we would completely avoid the usual highway,
hot and dusty, near the coast; in Guatemala itself, we would go by
Nenton, Huehuetenango and Nibaj. This did not suit the padre: he had
had in mind a journey all rail and steamer; and friends, long resident in
Mexico, shook their heads and spoke of fatigues and dangers. But I was
adamant; the Mixes drew me; we would go overland, on horse, or not
at all.
When the Padre left Chila, he took a letter of recommendation from the
Archbishop of Oaxaca to the Bishop of Vera Cruz at Jalapa. By him,
the padre was located at Medellin, a few miles from Vera Cruz itself.
Thither I journeyed to join Ernst and make the final preparations for the

journey. Ernst met me at the station at 6:30 in the evening and we
stayed the night in the hot, mosquito-tortured, plague-stricken city.
Leaving at eight o'clock in the morning we were at Medellin in an hour.
Our journey was through low, swampy ground on which the chief
growth was of palm. The padre, whom we had not seen since we parted
at Oaxaca, met us at the station and took us at once to his house. The
town is small, the population a miserable mixture of black, white, and
indian elements. Few of the couples living there have been legally
married. The parish is one of the worst in the whole diocese. The
bishop warned the padre that it was an undesirable field, but it was the
only one then unoccupied. But the padre was working wonders and the
church was then undergoing repairs and decorations. The actual curato
was long ago seized by the government and is now used as a
schoolhouse. The priest lived in a rented house close by the river bank.
The house is a double one and the priest occupied but half of it; those
in the other half were hostile to him and he was anxious to rent the
whole place. His neighbors, however, did not care to leave and
threatened vengeance; they were behind a mass of accusations filed
against him with the bishop. His friends rallied to his support, sent in a
strong endorsement, and he remained. The padre had been industrious
while here. Behind his house is the little river, with a bath-house built
over it; crossing in a dugout canoe we found his garden flourishing,
filled with fresh vegetables. The