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In the morning, Governor Lopez supplied the letters for my further journey, and summoned the jefe politico and the presidente of the city and gave them personal orders that they were to assist, in every way, my work at Tuxtla, among the Zoques. The jefe himself took charge of my arrangements, put his office at my disposition for a workshop, and the work began at once.
We pestered him almost to death for subjects, when at last his secretario suggested the district jail. This was a veritable inspiration. There they were sure we would have no difficulty in finding the remainder of our hundred. To the jail we went, but out of seventy-five prisoners fully half were Tzotzils from Chamula and not Zoques. More than half of the remainder were not indian, but mestizos.
Chiapas is the home of at least thirteen tribes, each with its own language. Among the most interesting indians we saw in the market were the Tzotzils, from Chamula, who wore heavy, black woolen garments. The indians of the town and its immediate vicinity are Zoques. Few Mexican governors possess the breadth of view and the intelligent enterprise of Governor Leon, whom we encountered here.
From the latter point, an ox-cart journey of ten nights, across the states of Oaxaca and Chiapas, brought us to Tuxtla Gutierrez. By horse we continued through Chiapas to El Salto, where we took steamer for Frontera. From there, by steamer to Vera Cruz and then by rail, we traveled to the City of Mexico. Zoques, Tzotzils, Tzendals, and Chols were studied in this portion of the journey.
There were two hundred there, and this would more than see us through. The jefe himself accompanied us to the barracks and introduced us to the colonel, leaving orders that we should be supplied with every aid, and went off happy, in the sense of a bad job well done. But out of the two hundred soldiers in the barracks, just ten turned out to be Zoques of pure blood.
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