THE CHURCH; HUIXQUILUCAN
OTOMI INDIAN; HUIXQUILUCAN
In the olden time Huixquilucan had a bad reputation for highway robberies. A great hill overlooking the town is called the hill of crosses, and here a cross by the wayside usually signifies a place of murder. Many a traveller in the not distant past found his way from here as best he could to the capital city minus burden and money, minus hat and shoes, and sometimes minus clothing. They used to say that from Toluca to the city a man was robbed three times; the first time they took his money, the second his watch and valuables, the third, his clothes. We were told that the church here, the chief church of our Otomi friends, is called "the church of the thieves," and that it was even lately a favorite resort of ladrones, who prayed for blessing upon their thieving expeditions and for release in case they should be taken captive. And not so long ago, among the little silver votive offerings—eyes, legs, arms, hands—all given in fulfillment of promises for the cure of ailing members—one might see little chains and manacles, visible evidence that saint or Virgin had kindly released some fellow, taken in his misdeeds, from a well deserved punishment, in answer to his pious prayers.
Below the station of Dos Rios a little ravine borders the main valley. There, within sight of the track on one side of the ravine lies the stone which long ago "fell from the moon." It is a great boulder, with flat lower surface, and round upper surface, sufficiently large for a considerable party to camp on. The earth is washed away somewhat from below it, and on its under side are rude figures painted in imitation of suns and circles and symbolic designs. It is said that the indians throughout the country around respect this rock, making prayers and offerings to it.
One of Huixquilucan's pretty hamlets is Agua Bendita—blessed water—near the upper, narrowing end of the valley. A dozen or so houses compose the settlement. Near it, upon a little side gorge, two lovely springs burst forth from the rock. From them a babbling stream of sparkling water flows, in which, in the bright sunshine, women wash clothes, and lay them out on bushes or grassy banks to dry; little naked children play about while the mothers labor; hither dusky maidens come to perform their toilets; here women fill their ollas with water; here pulque-gatherers wash and scrape their skin bottles. In the little tank below, where the water lies so clear that everything is visible upon its bottom, one may see axolotls creeping. They are water-salamanders, but they have a strange history. Like frogs, they pass through a series of changes, and the larval is very different from the adult form. In some Mexican lakes of genial temperature, the little creature goes through its full history from the larva to the adult; but in cold mountain lakes, the adult form is never attained, and the larva (elsewhere immature) lays eggs that hatch its like.
Our last evening at Huixquilucan, I went out to purchase native garments. We rode from house to house, and were quite away from the town in a district where houses were few and far between. It was nearly dusk and our search must end. We were at the last house on a slope near the bottom of a valley, on whose opposite slope were but a few houses. The people were primitive in appearance, dress and language. They could not understand all we said, but were anxious to please the "padrecito," whose hand they kissed. Having no clothing to sell us, they tried to help us procure some. Orders were given to a shy and wild girl, with deep-set, shining jet-black eyes, raven hair and dark brown skin, dressed in rags. Stepping to a little out-jutting mass of rock, she gave a wild cry, looking across the valley to the nearest house on the opposite slope, fully half a mile away. We could see the people of the house turn out to hear. Then, in a high, clear voice, strangely penetrating, but without harshness or a break or pause for breath, with rising and falling intonation, she cried her message. There was a moment's pause, and then we saw the answering crier take her place, and in the same clear, penetrating, unbroken, up-and-down voice, came back the reply. It was not favorable, and the old man apologized for the failure, as he kissed the padrecito's hand in parting.
Some weeks later we were again at Huixquilucan, this time to secure some busts. Having reached the house of the presidente, we sent out our drunken friend Augustin, who had been useful to us during our measuring experiences, to find subjects. He finally appeared with a man who agreed to submit to the operation for one peso. Everything went well until the moulds were removed; it is true that in the removal a good deal of hair was pulled out, but no serious damage was done. When the peso agreed upon was offered, the subject indignantly refused to receive it, demanding five. I replied that he well understood our agreement: there was his peso; if he cared to take it, good; if not, I would keep it; but that to pay five pesos was out of the question. He thereupon grew angry and boisterously demanded the increased sum. Several of his friends gathered and backed him in his demand. The noise they made attracted a still greater crowd until at last we were surrounded by forty or fifty angry Indians. The man continued to demand his five pesos, the other crying, "Pay him five pesos." I was firm, declaring that the man should receive no more than had been promised. Again the peso was offered, again to be rejected. At that moment some brilliant genius cried, "If you do not pay five pesos we will break your moulds." And the cry was caught up by the angry crowd: "Yes, we will break the moulds unless you pay five pesos." At this threat I told my two companions to stand back out of the way, and then, speaking to him who had suggested the breaking of the moulds, said, pointing to them, "Yes, break the moulds." His ardor cooled. Turning to another, I said to him, "Come, break the moulds." He began to back away. Turning to the cause of the disturbance, who had joined in the cry about destroying the moulds, I said to him, "Come, come, we are waiting for you to break the moulds." No one made a move toward destroying our plaster-work, so I said, "No, you know quite well you will not break the moulds; if you did, you know what would happen; I should take you all as prisoners to Toluca." At that moment, catching sight of the old presidente who was passing on the road, I clapped my hands and beckoned him. When the old man came I laid the matter fairly before him, telling him the agreement that had been made, the time taken for the work, and the fact I had offered the man the peso promised; that he now demanded five pesos, refusing to take the proffered money. The old man looked a moment at me, then at the angry indian; then at me, and again at the indian; then, stepping up to him, he patted him on the back as a father might a spoiled child, saying, "Come, come, son; don't be a fool; three good days' wages for an hour's time; take your peso and be gone." We had feared the incident would cast a damper on our work and hinder other subjects. Far from it. We were supplied as rapidly as our men could work at the same price we paid our first subject.
CHAPTER VI
LAKE PATZCUARO
(1897)
Mexico has few large lakes, the largest, Chapala, having an area of only 1,685 square kilometers. Patzcuaro is much smaller, but far more picturesque. The form is something like a fat horseshoe; fine hills rise around it on all sides, behind which are mountain heights, with jagged outlines; pretty islands dot its waters, and twenty-two villages or towns of Tarascan indians are situated on its borders. The indians of these villages rarely use the land roads in going from town to town, commonly journeying by canoes, of a somewhat peculiar type. These are "dug outs," made from single tree trunks, and range in size from those intended for a single hunter to those which will carry ten or twelve persons. At the stern they are cut almost squarely