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I was advised by him, in case of going to that place, to talk with Don Pablo Leyra, of Huehuetla, who was himself an Indian and a man of consequence in the district a sort of cacique among his people. Several years ago, I had first learned from Señor Eurosa, a Mexican Protestant clergyman, that in the little town of Tlacuilotepec, there still survive interesting pagan practices.
The two nights that we were at Huehuetla, we saw men and women fishing in the stream; carrying blazing torches in their left hands, they waded out into the water and watched to see the dark bodies of the fish against the pebbly bottom of the stream; in the right hand they carried a machete, about a foot in length, with which they stabbed the fish, rarely missing.
As we were to return by Huehuetla, we left the busts which we had made, and all but our most necessary baggage, at Don Pablo's house. Though we started at ten, we took the journey slowly, photographing and hunting birds. The road was a trail in a ravine, with all the beautiful scenery with which we now were so familiar. At one point we saw a curious phenomenon.
We were to leave at nine, dine at twelve at San Bartolo, leave there at one, and reach Huehuetla between five and six. It was really only a quarter-past-nine when we did start, and the jefe, himself, saw us on our way.
To our surprise, we found a fellow countryman, a civil engineer named Culin, from Philadelphia, who has done and is doing much work for the pueblos of this region. Huehuetla is a large town, occupying a long valley hemmed in between mountains and bordering a stream.
He has lived at Huehuetla since boyhood, forty-four years, till just now, and has but recently come to take the position of jefe politico. He has not yet moved his family from Huehuetla, and occupies a single room in his office-building. He secured us a pleasant room, with good beds for the older, and good mattresses for the younger, members of our party, in a house near-by upon the hill.
We were now ready for the last tribe of the season, the Totonacs of Pantepec. Pantepec is in the district of Huachinango, and we had no order from the jefe; Don Valentino, the presidente of Huehuetla, said, however, that the presidente of Pantepec was his friend, and that he would give us a letter of introduction, which would serve all purposes.
The country was of limestone. On the whole, the road was good, but, here and there, were patches where we traveled over sharp and jagged out-croppings of rock, and near Huehuetla we were forced to make some stiff climbs up the cliff sides. Flocks of parrots were numerous, especially toward evening. The stream was a handsome one, with clear, deep water; we crossed and recrossed many times.
We had had such ill success in locating Totonacs so far, that, at our suggestion, they telephoned to the jefe at Tenango inquiring regarding the populations of Huehuetla and Pantepec, with the result that we decided to visit those towns. At Tulancingo, we had been snubbed by the jefe, who would not treat with us outside of office hours.
On the other hand, when there is drought, a procession carries the idols to a cave, where a feast is given and a dance, with wands of flowers carried in the hands, indulged in. Though the price for animals from Huehuetla to Las Tortugas was exorbitant, we had agreed to pay it but told the man that, if he left later than six, it should be cut two dollars.
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