spur of a high hill, and coming down into a
thickly-wooded valley, after the longest half league we ever walked, we
saw through the trees a large stone structure. On reaching it, and
climbing over a broken terrace, we came to a large mound faced on all
sides with stone, which we ascended, and crossing over the top, looked
down upon an overgrown area, having on each side a range of ruined
buildings, with their white facades peering through the trees; and
beyond, at a distance, and seemingly inaccessible, was the high hill
with the ruins on the top, which we had seen from the terrace of the
first building. Hills rose around us on every side, and, for that
country, the scene was picturesque, but all waste and silent. The
stillness of the grave rested upon the ruins, and the notes of a little
flycatcher were the only sounds we heard.

[Engraving 23: A Building]

The ruins in sight were much more extensive than those we had first
visited, but in a more ruinous condition. We descended the mound to the
area in front, and, bearing down the bushes, passed in the centre an
uncouth, upright, circular stone, like that frequently referred to
before, called the picote, or whipping-post, and farther on we reached
an edifice, which Mr. Catherwood afterward drew, and which is
represented in the engraving opposite. It is thirty-three feet in
front, and has two apartments, each thirteen feet long by eight feet
six inches deep, and conspicuous in the facade are representations of
three uncouth human figures, in curious dresses, with their hands held
up by the side of the head, supporting the cornice.

These ruins, Dimas told us, were called Schoolhoke, but, like the
others, they stand on what is called the savanna of Chunhuhu; and the
ruined building on the top of the hill, visible from both places, seems
towering as a link to connect them together. What the extent of this
place has been it is impossible to say. Returning, overtaken by night,
and in apprehension of rain, we were an hour and a half, which would
make the two, by the path we took, at least five miles apart, though
much nearer in a straight line. Supposing the two piles of ruins to
have formed part of the same city, there is reason to believe that it
once covered as much ground and contained as many inhabitants as any
that has yet been presented.

The first intelligence I received of the existence of these ruins was
from Cocom, who, the reader may remember, was our guide a