Chapter XIII.
At noon, on the second day of our departure from Cape Gracias, we came to a considerable stream, named Bocay, which enters the river Wanks from the south-west. It was on the banks of this river, some ten or fifteen miles above its mouth, that the famedSukiawoman resided. We directed our boats up the stream, the water of which was clear, and flowed with a rapid current. We were not long in passing through the belt of savannah which flanks the Cape River, on both sides, for fifty miles above its mouth. Beyond this came dense primitive forests of gigantic trees, among which the mahogany was conspicuous. The banks, too, became high and firm, occasionally presenting rocky promontories, around which the water swept in dark eddies. Altogether, it was evident that we had entered the mountain region of the continent, andwere at the foot of one of the great dependent ranges of the primitive chain of the Cordilleras.
In places, the river was compressed among high hills, with scarped, rocky faces, where the current was rapid and powerful, and only overcome by vigorous efforts at the paddles. These were succeeded by beautiful intervals of level ground, inviting localities for the establishments of man. We passed two or three sweet and sheltered nooks, in which were small clearings, and the picturesque huts of the Indians. Excepting an occasional palm-tree, or isolated cluster of plantains, clinging to the shore where their germs had been lodged by the water, there was nothing tropical in the aspect of nature, unless, perhaps, the greater size of the forest-trees, and the variety of parasitic plants which they supported.
Our progress against the current was comparatively slow and laborious, and it was late in the evening when the glittering of fires on the bank, and the barking of dogs, announced to us the proximity of the Indian village of Bocay, to which we were bound. We reached it in due time, and were received quite ceremoniously by the old men of the place, who seemed to be perfectly aware of our coming. This struck me at the time as due to the foresight of Mr. H., but I afterward learned that he had given the Indians no intimation of our proposed visit.
A vacant hut was assigned to us, and we commenced to arrange our hammocks and prepare oursupper. Our meal was scarcely finished, when there was a sudden movement among the Indians, who clustered like bees around our door, and a passage for some one approaching was rapidly opened. A moment afterward, an old woman came forward, and, stopping in the low doorway, regarded us in silence. In bearing and dress she differed much from the rest of the people. Around her forehead she wore a broad band of cotton, in which were braided the most brilliant feathers of birds. This band confined her hair, which hung down her back, like a vail, nearly to the ground. From her waist depended a kilt of tiger-skins, and she wore sandals of the same on her feet. Around each wrist and ankle she had broad feather bands, like that which encircled her forehead.
Her eyes soon rested upon Antonio, who, on the instant of her approach, had discontinued his work, and advanced to the door. They exchanged a glance as if of recognition, and spoke a few hurried and, to us, unintelligible words, when the old woman turned suddenly, and walked away. I looked inquiringly at the youthful Indian, whose eyes glowed again with that mysterious intelligence which I had so often remarked.
He came hastily to my side, and whispered in Spanish, “The Mother of the Tigers is waiting!” Then, with nervous steps, he moved toward the door. I beckoned to H., and followed. The Indians opened to the right and left, and we passed out, scarcely able to keep pace with the rapidsteps of the Indian boy. On he went, as if familiar with the place, past the open huts, and into the dark forest. I now saw that he followed a light, not like that of a flame, but of a burning coal, which looked close at one moment, and distant the next. The path, though narrow, was smooth, and ascended rapidly. For half an hour we kept on at the same quick pace, when the trees began to separate, and I could see that we were emerging from the dark forest into a comparatively open space, in which the graceful plumes of the palm-trees appeared, traced lightly against the starry sky. Here the guiding fire seemed to halt, and, coming up, we found the same old woman who had visited us in the village, and who now carried a burning brand as a direction to our steps. She made a sign of silence, and moved on slowly, and with apparent caution. A few minutes’ walk brought us to what, in the dim light, appeared to be a building of stone, and soon after to another and larger one. I saw that they were partly ruined, for the stars in the horizon were visible through the open doorways. Our guide passed these without stopping, and led us to the threshold of a small cane-built hut, which stood beyond the ruin. The door was open, and the light from within shone out on the smoothly beaten ground in front, in a broad unwavering column. We entered; but for the moment I was almost blinded by a blaze of light proceeding from torches of pine-wood, planted in each corner. I was startled also by an angry growl, and the suddenapparition of some wild animal at our feet. I shrank back with a feeling of alarm, which was not diminished when, upon recovering my powers of vision, I saw directly in front of us, as if guardian of the dwelling, a large tiger, its fierce eyes fixed upon us, and slowly sweeping the ground with its long tail, as if preparing to spring at our throats.
It, however, stopped the way only for a moment. A single word and gesture from the old woman drove it into a corner of the hut, where it crouched down in quiet. I glanced around, but excepting a single rude Indian drum, placed in the centre of the smooth, earthen floor, and a few blocks of stone planted along the walls for seats, there were no other articles, either of use or ornament, in the hut. But at one extremity of the low apartment, seated upon an outspread tiger-skin, was a woman, whose figure and manner at once marked her out as the extraordinarySukiawhom we had come so far to visit. She was young, certainly not over twenty, tall, and perfectly formed, and wore a tiger-skin in the same manner as the old woman who had acted as her messenger, but the band around her forehead, and her armlets and anklets, were of gold.
She rose when we entered, and, with a faint smile of recognition to H., spoke a few words of welcome. I had expected to see a bold pretender to supernatural powers, whose first efforts would be directed to work upon the imaginations of her visitors, and was surprised to find that the “Mother of the Tigers” was after all only a shy and timid Indian girl. Herlooks, at first, were troubled, and she glanced into our eyes inquiringly; but suddenly turning her gaze toward the open door, she uttered an exclamation of mingled surprise and joy, and in an instant after she stood by the side of Antonio. They gazed at each other in silence, then exchanged a rapid signal, and a single word, when she turned away, and Antonio retired into a corner, where he remained fixed as a statue, regarding every movement with the closest attention.
“THE MOTHER OF THE TIGERS.”
“THE MOTHER OF THE TIGERS.”
“THE MOTHER OF THE TIGERS.”
No sooner had theSukiaresumed her seat, than she clasped her forehead in her open palms, and gazed intently upon the ground before her. Never have I seen the face of a human being which wore a more earnest expression. For five minutes, perhaps, the silence was unbroken, when a sudden sound, as of the snapping of the string of a violin, directed our attention to the rude drum that stood in the centre of the hut. This sound was followed by a series of crackling noises, like the discharges ofelectric sparks. They seemed to occur irregularly at first, but as I listened, I discovered that they had a harmonious relationship, as if in accompaniment to some simple melody. The vibrations of the drum were distinctly visible, and they seemed to give it a circular motion over the ground, from left to right. The sounds stopped as suddenly as they had commenced, and theSukia, lifting her head, said solemnly, “The spirits of your fathers have come to the mountain! I know them not; you must speak to them.”
I hesitate to recount what I that night witnessed in the rude hut of theSukia, lest my testimony should expose both my narrative and myself to ridicule, and unjust imputations. Were it my purpose to elaborate an impressive story, it would be easy to call in the aid of an imposing machinery, and invest the communications which were that night made to us with a portentous significance. But this would be as foreign to truth as repugnant to my own feelings; for whatever tone of lightness may run through this account of my adventures in the wilderness, those who know me will bear witness to my respect for those things which are in their nature sacred, or connected with the more mysterious elements of our existence. I can only say, that except the somewhat melo-dramatic manner in which we had been conducted up the mountain by the messenger of theSukia, and the incident of the tamed tiger, nothing occurred during our visitwhich appeared to have been designed for effect, or which was visibly out of the ordinary course of things. It is true, I was somewhat puzzled, I will not say impressed, with the perfect understanding, or relationship, which seemed to exist between theSukiaand Antonio. This relationship, however, was fully explained in the sequel. Among the ruling and the priestly classes of the semi-civilized nations of America, there has always existed a mysterious bond, or secret organization, which all the disasters to which they have been subjected, have not destroyed. It is to its present existence that we may attribute those simultaneous movements of the aborigines of Mexico, Central America, and Peru, which have, more than once, threatened the complete subversion of the Spanish power.
THE SANCTUARY OF THE SUKIA.
THE SANCTUARY OF THE SUKIA.
THE SANCTUARY OF THE SUKIA.
It was past midnight when, with a new and deeper insight into the mysteries of our present and future existence, and a fuller and loftier appreciation of the great realities which are to follow upon the advent of every soul into the universe, and of which earth is scarcely the initiation, that H. and myself left the sanctuary of theSukia. The moon had risen, and now silvered every object with its steady light, revealing to us that we stood upon a narrow terrace of the mountain, facing the east, and commanding a vast panorama of forest and savannah, bounded only by the distant sea. Immediately in front of the hut from which we had emerged, stood one of the ruined structures to which I havealready alluded. By the clear light of the moon I could perceive that it was built of large stones, laid with the greatest regularity, and sculptured all over with strange figures, having a close resemblance, if not an absolute identity, with those which have become familiarized to us by the pencil of Catherwood. It appeared originally to have been of two stories, but the upper walls had fallen, and the ground was encumbered with the rubbish, over which vines were trailing, as if to vail the crumbling ruins from the gaze of men. As we moved away, and at a considerable distance from the ruins, we observed a large erect stone, rudely sculptured in the outlineof a human figure. Its face was turned to the East, as if to catch the first rays of the morning, and the light of the moon fell full upon it. To my surprise, its features were the exact counterparts of those which appeared on Antonio’s talisman. There was no mistaking the rigid yet not ungentle expression of the “Lord who never lies.”
Silently we followed the guide, who had conducted us up the mountain, into the narrow path which led to the village. She indicated to us the direction we were to pursue with her hand, and left us without a word. I was so absorbed in my own reflections that it was not until we had reached our temporary quarters that I missed Antonio. He had remained behind. But when I awoke next morning he had returned, and was busily preparing for our departure. “It is well with our brothers of the mountains!” was his prompt response to my look of inquiry. From that day forward his absorbing idea seemed to be to return as speedily as possible to his people. It was long afterward that I discovered the deep significance of the visit of the youthful chieftain of the Itzaes to the Indian seeress of the River Bocay. Since then the Spaniard, though fenced round with bayonets, has often shuddered when he has heard the cry of the tiger in the stillness of the night, betraying the approach of those injured men, whose relentless arms, nerved by the recollections of three centuries of oppression, now threaten the utter extermination of the race of the conquerors!
Our passage down the Bocay was rapid compared with the ascent, and at noon we had reached the great river. My course now lay in one direction, and that of Mr. H. in another, but we were loth to separate, and he finally agreed to accompany us to our first stopping-place, and, passing the night with us there, return next day to the Cape. It was scarcely four o’clock when we reached the designated point, chiefly remarkable as marking the termination of the savannahs. Beyond here the banks of the river became elevated, rising in hills and high mountains, densely covered with a gigantic primeval forest. Our Indian companions speedily supplied us with an abundance of fish, with which the river seemed to swarm. And as for vegetables—wherever the banks of the river are low there is a profusion of bananas and plantains, growing from bulbs, which have been brought down from the interior, and deposited by the river in its overflows.
Mr. H. had once ascended the river to its source, in the elevated mining district of New Segovia, the extreme north-western department of Nicaragua. The ascent had occupied him twenty days. In many places, he said, the channel is completely interrupted by falls and impassable rapids, around which it was necessary to drag the canoes. In other places the river is compressed between vertical walls of rock, and the water runs with such force that it required many attempts and the most vigorous exertions to get the boats through.
He represented that New Segovia has a considerablepopulation of civilized Indians, whose principal occupation is the washing of gold, which is found in all of the upper waters. Their mode of life he described as affording a curious illustration of the influence of the Catholic priests, who are scattered here and there, and who exercise almost unbounded influence over the simple natives. The nature of their relationship, as well as their own manners, were so well illustrated by an incident which befell him during his visit there, that I shall attempt to relate it, as nearly as possible in his own words. The reader must bear in mind that the recital was made in a fragmentary manner, in the intervals of vigorous puffing at a huge cigar, and that I have taken the liberty of commencing at the beginning of the story, and not at the end.
“On our nineteenth evening from the Cape,” said H., “after a fatiguing day of alternate poling and paddling, we reached Pantasma, the extreme frontier Segovian settlement on the river. As we drew up to the bank, thankful for the prospect of shelter and rest which the village held out, we were surprised to hear the music of drums and pipes, and, for a moment, were under the pleasing impression that the people had, in some way, got information of our approach, and had taken this mode of giving us a welcome. However, we soon saw that the musicians were in attendance on awhite man, whose garb had a strange mixture of civilized and savage fashions. He regarded us curiously for a few moments, and then, giving the nearest musicians each a vigorous kick, he ran down to the water, and bestowed upon all of us an equally hearty embrace! Propounding a dozen inquiries in a breath, he announced himself an Englishman ‘in a d—l of a fix,’ whose immediate and overshadowing ambition was, that all hands should go straight to his hut and have something to drink! Our first impression was decidedly that the man was mad; but we were undeceived when we got to his house, which we found profusely supplied with food, and where we were not long in making ourselves thoroughly at home. Perhaps what we drank had something to do with it, but certainly we nearly died with laughter in listening to our host’s recital of his adventures in Central America, and especially of the way in which he had got to Pantasma, and came to have an escort of musicians.
“His name, he said, was Harry F——. He was the son of a London merchant, who was well to do in the world. As usual with sons of such papas, he had gone to school when younger, and entered his father’s establishment when old enough, where, as the probable successor of the principal, he was, in his own estimation at least, an important personage, and, altogether, above work. He nevertheless affected a great liking for the packing department, for the reason that it connected with a vault, in which he had established a smoking-room,where he spent the day in devising plans of amusement for the night, in company with chosen spirits and choice Havanas.
“When he had reached his majority, his father thought it prudent to detach him from his associations, by giving him a little experience in the severities of the world. Having several friends in Belize, he fitted him out with an adventure, costing some twenty-five hundred dollars, and consisting of nearly every useless article that could be found, which, by its glitter and gaud, it was supposed, would attract the easily-dazzled eyes of the people of the tropics. He duly arrived at Belize, full of bright anticipations. One of his cherished schemes was to sell his jewelry in the towns of the interior, at four hundred per cent. profit, and after paying expenses and losses, to return at once to London, with five thousand dollars clear profit! So he went to Guatemala, and spread out his tempting wares. But he met with poor success, and at the end of two years, having gone on from bad to worse, he at last found himself in the Indian town where we discovered him—a Catholic Mission, under a Reverend Padre, who had been educated at Leon, and had passed most of his simple life, being now over threescore and ten, among the simple Indians, whom he governed. When Harry first arrived, he proceeded to the nearest hut, where the usual hospitality of room to hang his hammock was accorded him, while his valise was installed in a corner—said valise containing the remnants of the venture fromLondon, now dwindled down to a very small compass indeed. Of his success in trading, Harry spoke very frankly: ‘The hardest lot of worthless articles I ever saw; some that I could not even give away; and those which I sold, I had to trust to people so poor that they never paid me! So I let one man pick out all he had a mind to, for one thousand dollars in cash; and that paid my expenses in Guatemala, until I got tired of the place, and started off down here.’
“After swinging his hammock in his new quarters, Harry made the tour of the village, and called on the padre, who was delighted to see him, as padres always are, took him to his church, which was as large as a city parlor, and then gave him a good dinner of fish and turtle. Harry had not had so sumptuous a meal for many a day; and when the good father brought forth a joint of bamboo, which held nearly a gallon, and drew from it a supply of tolerable rum, he felt that he had fallen into the hands of a good Samaritan. So long as this hospitality lasted, he sought no change. In the fullness of his gratitude, he made visits to all the huts in the village, and overwhelmed the inmates with presents of articles which he had not been able to give away in other places. In return, they gave him part of a morning’s fishing, or part of a turtle, and thus kept him in provisions. But times changed after a few days; his friend the padre ceased to bring forth the bamboo joint, and at the same time commenced to exhort him torepentance, and to the acceptance of the true church. His host, too, declined to catch any more fish than were consumed by his interesting wife and three naked children.
“Harry smoked long and intensely over the subject. He might make a ‘raise’ on a pair of pantaloons, but then, ‘when that was gone?’ It was the first time in his life that he had been obliged seriously to reflect how he should be able to get his next meal. He tried oranges, bananas, and pineapples, but still he was hungry. As to fishing, he had never caught a fish in his life, and a turtle would be perfectly safe under his feet. His case became desperate. Such cases require desperate remedies, and Harry went to the padre, to consult with him as to the best mode of reaching Leon, distant some two hundred miles, beyond the mountains.
“It was a lucky moment for a visit to the reverend father, since, in return for some hides, sarsaparilla, and balsam, sent by him to his correspondent, the padre at Choluteca, a large town on the Pacific, he had received, among other luxuries, a reënforcement of bamboo joints. These had already added to his good humor, and given to his fat corporation and ruddy face an unusual glow. He gave Harry a warm greeting, and pointing to the broached joint, told him to help himself, which he did without reserve. Harry, in his best, though very bad Spanish, stated his case, and the holy father listened and replied. The next morning our hero awoke, and was rather surprised to find himself yet at thepadre’s house, where he had slept in a hammock. An empty bamboo joint was beside him, and he had a glimmering idea of a compact with the padre, through which he was to be extricated from his present uncomfortable position, and reach Leon in a most acceptable manner. But how this was to be done had escaped him; he had only a faint recollection that the padre had insisted upon initiating him into some mystery or other, and that in the fullness of heart he had assented, to the great joy of the priest, who, on the spot had given him a hearty embrace, and commenced learning him how to make the sign of the cross. The worthy padre awoke with rather different sensations, for he felt exalted with the thought that he, a poor priest over a miserable Indian community for forty years, should finally be able to rescue the soul of a heretic from the arch enemy. He was thankful that his eloquence had enabled him to attach an immortal being to the true church—a white one at that, who was of more value than a whole community of savages. It was a miracle, he was satisfied, of his patron saint, Leocadia! So without loss of time he proceeded with the work of redemption. Harry proved an apt disciple; and after making up a lot of cigars from the tobacco-pouch of the padre, the latter proceeded to explain to him what he required in the premises. Harry’s mouth opened, and his cigar fell unheeded to the ground, when the padre announced his intention to administer to him the rite of baptism without delay.
“By the time he had finished his explanation, Harry’s mind was made up; as there were no lookers on whom he cared for, he would let the padre have his way, or, as he afterward expressed it, ‘put him through.’
“For several days the padre and himself worked hard. He went carefully over the various responses and prayers, as they were dictated to him, made the sign of the cross in due form and proper place, and, by the assistance of the bamboo joint, was, on the second day pronounced in a hopeful state, and told that the afternoon following should witness the final act of his salvation. The sun was declining, when Harry, habited in his best, proceeded to the padre’s house. He was rather surprised at meeting so many people, for he had not been consulted in any of the arrangements, and was not aware that every native in the vicinity had been notified of the ceremony in which he was to take so important a part. All had come, men, women, and children, dressed in very scanty, but very clean white cotton garments. They opened a passage for him to enter the padre’s house, whom he found arrayed in his priestly vestments. He was informed that all were about proceeding to his house to escort him to the church, but that, being on the spot, the procession would form at once. Harry submitted without question to the padre’s directions, had a quiet interview with the bamboo joint, and was ready. The procession was headed by four alcaldes, of different villages, each with his official baton, a tall,gold-headed staff. Next came the music, consisting of three performers on rude clarionets, made of long joints of cane, and three performers on drums, each made of a large calabash with a monkey-skin drawn over it. Next came Harry and the worthy padre, and then the people of the village, and the ‘invited guests,’ six deep, and a hundred all told. When our hero took his place in the procession, the padre threw over his shoulders a poncho, six feet long, gaudily decorated with the tails of macaws, bright feathers from strange birds, and strings of small river-shells, which rattled at every step; and thus they started. First they went to Harry’s own hut, and, as they doubled that, and took their route toward the church, he could see the last of the procession leaving the vicinity of the padre’s house. After the manner of their processions on high religious festivals, they came singing and dancing, and altogether appearing very happy. Harry was glad in his heart that no white man was looking on, and had to laugh inwardly at the fuss that was made over him. In due time they arrived at the church, and the usual ceremonies of baptism were gone through with, succeeded by a dance, on the grass, to say nothing of a liberal dispensation from the padre’s bamboo joints. The padre dismissed the assembly very early, and retired, never having had so glorious or so fatiguing a day within his memory, and he was the oldest inhabitant!
“Harry wended his way to his hammock, made a cigar, thought over the events of the day, andwondered whether the church was now bound to find him fish and the et ceteras; but, before any conclusion could be come at in his mind, he fell asleep. Awaking in the morning, he was accosted at his door by several neighbors, who asked him to accept the presents they had brought, which he did of course, without knowing that it is always the custom to send something to every villager whenever he happens to have a christening, a marriage, or a death in his family. This being a very great occasion, every body had been liberal and generous withal, and in a short space he found himself supplied with provisions for a long time, more fish than he could eat in months, turtles, chickens, pigs, eggs, piles of fruit of all kinds, yams, wild animals, in fact every thing that was edible. Sending a large part of his presents as an offering to the church, Harry returned to his hammock and cigar, while his hostess commenced cooking with an agreeable alacrity.
“Late in the afternoon he started for the padre’s house, but had hardly emerged from his hut when he was somewhat surprised to find himself joined by the musicians of the village, the clarionet taking precedence, and the drum filing in, both playing the usual no-tune to the best of their ability. And thus it happened for weeks afterward, for thus did the padre seek to do honor to the new disciple of the faith.
“It was on one of these formal promenades,” continued H., “that we made our appearance atPantasma, to Harry’s exceeding astonishment, and great joy. We ridiculed him for his emphatic dismissal of his musical friends, but he was too much delighted to be captious, and sent straightway for the padre, who brought with him a bamboo-joint, wherewith we made merry, even to the going down of the sun. We all went to sleep while the worthy priest was reading to us the certificate of Harry’s baptism, which he had carefully engrossed on five closely-written pages.”
And what, I inquired, became of the convert?
“Oh! he returned with us; and that old Port which you tasted at the Cape is one of the many evidences which I have received of his grateful recollection, since he has returned to London to the inheritance of his fathers.”