ve indicated to us the particular
means and art used to render it available. Hundreds are perhaps how
buried in the woods, which once furnished this element of life to the
teeming population of Yucatan.

Leaving the aguada, our road lay over a level and wooded plain, then
wet and muddy from the recent rains, and at the distance of a league we
reached the sugar rancho of a gentleman from Oxcutzcab, who had been a
co-worker with Senor Trego in clearing out the aguada, and confirmed
all that the latter had told us. A league beyond we came to the rancho
of 'Y-a-walthel, inhabited entirely by Indians, and beyond our road
opened upon a fine savanna, in which were several aguadas. Beyond this
we reached the rancho of Choop, and came into a good road, different
from the usual milpa paths, and like a well-beaten camino real, made so
by the constant travelling of beasts with water kegs to the aguadas.

In the afternoon we passed the campo santo of Macoba, and very soon,
ascending a hill, we saw through the trees the "old walls" of the
ancient inhabitants. It was one of the wildest places we had seen; the
trees were grander, and we were somewhat excited on approaching it, for
we had heard that the old city was repeopled, and that Indians were
again living in the buildings. It was almost evening; the Indians had
returned from their work; smoke was issuing from the ruins, and, as
seen through the trees, the very tops seemed alive with people; but as
we approached we almost turned away with sorrow. It was like the
wretched Arabs of the Nile swarming around the ruined temples of
Thebes, a mournful contrast of present misery and past magnificence.
The doors were stopped with leaves and branches; the sculptured
ornaments on the facades were blackened by smoke rolling from the
doorways, and all around were the confusion and filthiness of Indian
housekeeping. As we rode up the Indians stared at us in astonishment
and the scared women snatched up their screaming children and ran away.

Among these ruins a rancho had been erected for the major domo, and as
everything we had heretofore seen belonging to the cura of Xul was in
fine order, we had no fears about our accommodations; but we found that
nothing in this world must be taken for granted. The rancho was
thatched, and had a dirty earthen floor, occupied by heaps of corn,
beans, eggs, boxes, baskets, fowls, dogs, and pigs. There were two
small, dirty hammocks, in one of which was swing