ll over the country. On the second
of November, at the celebration of the fete in commemoration _de los
fieles difuntos_ all these skulls are brought together and put into the
tumulo, a sort of bier hung with black and lighted by blessed candles,
and grand mass is said for their souls.

In the afternoon the padrecito passed our door in his robes, and,
looking in, as he usually did, said, "Voy a buscar un muerto," "I am
going for a corpse." The platform of the church was the campo santo;
every day the grave-digger was at his work, and soon after the
padrecito left us we heard the chant heralding the funeral procession.
I went out, and saw it coming up the steps, the padrecito leading it
and chanting the funeral service. The corpse was brought into the
church, and, the service over, it was borne to the grave. The
sacristans were so intoxicated that they let it fall in with its neck
twisted. The padrecito sprinkled it with holy water, and, the chant
over, went away. The Indians around the grave looked at me with an
expression of face I could not understand. They had told the padrecito
that we had brought death into the village. In a spirit of conciliation
I smiled at a woman near me, and she answered with a laugh. I carried
my smile slowly around the whole circle; as my eyes met theirs, all
burst into a laugh, and while the body lay uncovered and distorted in
the grave I went away. With these people death is merely one of the
accidents of life. "Voy a descansar," "I am going to rest," "Mis
trabajos son acabados," "My labours are ended," are the words of the
Indian as he lies down to die; but to the stranger in that country
death is the king of terrors.

In the mean time pleasure was treading lightly upon the heels of death.
The fiesta of Santo Cristo del Amor was still going on, and it was to
conclude the next day with a baile de dia, or ball by daylight, at the
place where it began, in the house of the patron. We were busy in
making preparations for our departure from Nohcacab, and, though
strongly solicited, I was the only one of our party able to attend.
Early in the morning the saint was in its place at one end of the room,
the altar was adorned with fresh flowers, and the arbour for dancing
was covered with palm leaves to protect it from the sun. Under a shed
in the yard was a crowd of Indian women making tortillas, and preparing
dishes of various kinds for a general village feast. At twelve o'clock
the ball began,