the days of my life-第69部分

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ure　and　of　jewels；　with　the　help　of　Senor　Anselmo　we　were　making　our　preparations　once　more　to　clear　that　shaft　when　the　terrible　news　of　which　I　have　spoken　arrived。　After　its　receipt　I　had　no　heart　to　enter　upon　the　adventure。
A　year　or　so　later　Jebb　returned　to　Mexico　to　find；　I　think；　that　the　Mexican　concerned　was　dead　and　that　Anselmo　had　vanished；　none　knew　where。　It　was　suggested　that　he　had　been　murdered　by　Indians　who　knew　that　he　held　the　secret　of　their　ancient　wealth。　But　whether　this　was　so　or　not　I　cannot　say。
The　site　of　the　shaft　is；　I　suppose；　now　lost；　although　of　course　some　of　the　peons　that　assisted　in　the　clearing　of　the　pit　may　remember　its　whereabouts；　if　they　still　live。　I　understand；　however；　that　only　Anselmo　and　the　Mexican　actually　destroyed　the　covering　stone　engraved　with　an　owl　and　explored　the　passage　and　flight　of　steps　beyond。　The　peons　probably　thought　that　they　were　really　digging　for　sulphur　without　the　permission　of　the　proprietor　of　the　land。
The　story　as　it　stands　is；　I　admit；　like　most　such　stories；　rather　vague；　but　for　my　part　I　believe；　as　did　the　late　Mr。　Jebb；　that　Montezuma’s　treasure　or　a　large　part　of　it　remains　buried　in　this　place。　That　it　is　buried　somewhere　is　not　to　be　doubted；　for　the　Spaniards　never　recovered　what　was　lost　in　the　rout　of　the　Noche　triste。　Indeed；　my　impression　is；　although　I　cannot　verify　this　without　rereading　all　the　old　chroniclers；　that　they　put　many　Indians　to　the　torture；　including　Guatemoc　himself；　as　I　have　described　in　“Montezuma’s　Daughter；”　in　order　to　force　them　to　reveal　its　hiding…place。　However　this　may　be；　I　doubt　whether　the　golden　head　of　Montezuma　and　the　jewels　which　he　wore　will　ever　again　see　the　light　of　day。　The　Aztecs　buried　them　deeply；　having　time　at　their　disposal；　no　plough　or　surface　excavation　will　reveal　them；　and　the　place　of　their　sepulture　is　lost。　And　this　must　anyhow　be　pleasing　to　the　shade　of　the　heroic　Guatemoc。
By　a　little　stretch　of　the　imagination　one　might　almost　fancy　that　this　hoard　still　lies　under　the　protection　of　the　evil　Aztec　gods；　of　one　of　which　I　will　now　tell　the　story。
Shortly　before　I　went　to　Mexico；　in　the　course　of　some　drainage　works　which　were　then　being　begun　at　a　distance　from　the　city　—　I　think　the　place　was　called　Zumpango；　but　of　this　I　am　not　sure　—　a　peculiarly　hideous　idol　was　discovered。　It　was　grey　in　colour；　but；　if　I　remember　rightly；　more　or　less　blotched　with　pink；　and　its　head　was　sunk　almost　between　the　shoulders；　while　I　can　only　describe　the　face　as　devilish。　On　its　disinterment　it　is　a　fact　that　the　Indians　of　the　neighbourhood　identified　it　at　once；　by　the　tradition　which　had　descended　from　father　to　son　among　them；　as　a　slaughter…idol　of　the　Aztecs　which　had　been　buried　at　this　spot　to　save　it　from　destruction　by　the　Spaniards　in　the　time　of　Cortes；　and　there　remained　in　seclusion　until　the　year　1890。　Its　resurrection　is　said　to　have　occasioned　great　excitement　among　them。
One　of　the　old　chroniclers　—　I　think　it　is　Bernal　Diaz　—　describes　the　finding　of　the　Place　of　Sacrifice　over　which　this　idol　presided。　If　I　recollect　aright　he　says　that　they　saw　a　pole　from　the　top　of　which　the　idol　itself　had　been　removed；　and　that　the　said　pole　was　built　all　round　with　the　skulls　of　human　victims　whose　hearts　had　been　torn　out　as　an　offering　to　it。　In　short；　the　pedigree　of　the　thing　seems　to　be　well　authenticated。　As　Mrs。　Jebb　describes　in　the　Life　of　her　husband；　Jebb；　an　ardent　collector　of　curiosities；　was　very　anxious　to　obtain　this　blood…stained　relic；　which　he　offered　to　buy　at　no　mean　price。　The　finder；　however；　could　not　be　tempted　to　part　with　it；　and　there　the　matter　remained。　One　day；　however；　to　Jebb’s　great　astonishment；　the　idol　arrived　on　the　back　of　a　native；　unacpanied　by　any　note　or　word　of　explanation；　and　was　deposited　in　his　flat　in　the　city　of　Mexico；　where　he　found　it　on　his　return　home。　When　I　visited　him　very　shortly　afterwards　one　of　the　first　things　that　I　saw　in　the　house　was　this　ill…omened　effigy　of　Huitzilpotchli；　or　whatever　god　it　represented；　grinning　a　wele　across　the　patio。　Now　by　some　strange　chance　from　that　moment　forward；　as　Mrs。　Jebb　tells；　everything　went　wrong　with　her　husband’s　affairs。　His　health　broke；　panies　with　which　he　was　connected　collapsed；　mines　proved　unpayable；　and；　lastly；　he　sold　a　reversionary　interest　in　a　considerable　sum　for　a　third　of　its　value　on　the　very　day　before　the　life…tenant　died！　Such　were　some；　but　by　no　means　all；　of　the　catastrophes　that　overwhelmed　him；　which　cause　one　to　wonder　for　what　exact　reason　the　finder　had　parted　gratis　with　this　peculiar　treasure　for　which　shortly　before　he　had　refused　good　gold。
One　of　the　places　in　which　we　stayed　in　Mexico　was　a　huge　hacienda　situated　by　a　lake。　This　vast　house　had　once　been　a　monastery；　and　the　great　chamber　in　which　we　slept　was　still　hung　round　with　the　portraits　of　ill…favoured　abbots。　A　feature　of　the　house　consisted　of　its　almost　endless　cemented　roofs；　on　which　we　used　to　walk。　It　was　tenanted　by　the　two　bachelor　stewards　of　the　great　estate；　who　kept　mastiff　dogs　to　guard　them　at　night；　friendly　creatures　enough　when　once　mutual　confidence　had　been　established。　Altogether　that　hacienda　was　not　a　cheerful　residence　to　my　mind；　although　the　wild…fowl　shooting　on　the　lake　was　excellent　and　the　farming　operations　that　were　carried　on　interested　me　much。
Shortly　after　the　receipt　of　the　desolating　news　of　which　I　have　written；　in　order　to　try　to　occupy　our　minds　we　made　an　expedition　to　a　place　called　Pinal　among　the　mountains；　where；　with　Mr。　Jebb；　we　were　the　guests　of　a　gentleman　named　Stockdale　who　had　charge　of　a　silver　mine　in　which　Jebb　was　interested。　It　was　a　spot　of　extraordinary　loveliness；　with　its　deep　valleys　and　pine…clad　heights；　but　the　journey　there　on　horseback　was　very　rough。　Sometimes　the　road　ran　along　the　dry　bed　of　a　river；　where　the　animals　stumbled　from　stone　to　stone；　while　at　others　it　wended　on　the　edge　of　precipices。　Down　one　of　these　precipices　I　nearly　disappeared；　for　my　horse；　a　wooden　brute；　took　the　opportunity　to　fall　at　a　spot　where　the　two…foot…wide　path　had　been　washed　away　by　rain；　in　such　a　fashion　that　his　front　legs　were　on　one　side　of　the　gap　and　his　hind　part　on　the　other。　How　I　escaped　I　am　sure　I　do　not　know。　Mr。　Stockdale　used　to　gallop　along　these　paths；　although　once　he　and　his　horse　fell　over　the　edge　and　were　saved　only　by　being　caught　in　the　flat　top　of　a　thick　thorn　tree。　He　laughed　at　my　dislike　of　them。　A　while　afterwards　I　heard　that　he　had　fallen　from　such　a　path　and　been　dashed　to　pieces。　He　was　a　young　Englishman　of　the　best　sort；　one　of　that　gallant　breed　whose　bones　whiten　every　quarter　of　the　earth。
The　traveller　on　these　mountain　paths　in　Mexico　will　notice　many　wooden　crosses　set　up　against　the　rocky　walls。　Each　of　these　shows　that　here　a　death　has　occurred；　sometimes　by　accident；　more　frequently　by　murder；　which　amongst　these　half…savage　and　half…bred　people　—　the　product；　many　of　them；　of　intercourse　between　the　Spaniard　and　the　Indian　—　is　or　used　to　be　of　mon　occurrence。　（Now　I　observe　that　under　the　name　of　Revolution　the　Mexicans　are　butchering　each　other　wholesale　in　the　hope　of　securing　the　plunder　of　the　State；　which　has　grown　wealthy　under　the　rule　of　the　fugitive　Diaz。）
I　remember　that　we　reached　Pinal　on　a　Saturday；　the　night　on　which　the　peons　get　drunk　on　mescal　and　aqua　ardiente　and　fight　over　gambling　and　women。　On　the　Sunday　morning　I　walked　down　the　street　of　the　village；　where　I　saw　two　men　lying　dead　with　blankets　thrown　over　them。　A　third；　literally　hacked　to　pieces　by　machetes；　was　seated　in　a　collapsed　condition　in　a　doorway；　while　the　village　barber　tried　to　sew　up　his　hideous　wounds。　I　do　not　know　what　became　of　him。　Such　was　the　Mexico　of　those　days。
One　of　the　towns　that　we　visited　on　this　journey　was　a　place　named　Queretaro；　with　a　plaza　where　the　band　played；　for　all　the　Mexicans　are　musical；　and　the　young　people　walked　about　in　the　evening。　I　felt　so　ill　there　that　I　thought　I　must　be　going　to　die；　but　a　travelling　American　doctor　whom　I　met　in　the　place；　and　who；　good　fellow　that　he　was；　kindly　examined　me；　told　me　that　I　was　suffering　from　nothing　except　shock　to　the　nerves。
At　Queretaro　I　was　taken　up　a　hill　and　shown　the　wall　against　which　the　unhappy　Emperor　Maximilian　had　been　butchered　some　five…and…twenty　years　before。　In　this　town；　as　in　most　others　in　Mexico；　the　church　bells　seemed　to　ring　continually；　as　I　was　informed；　to　frighten　away　the　devils；　of　whom　there　must　in　truth　be　many　in　that　land　—　if　devils　exist　anywhere　outside　the　human　heart。
We　made　some　part　of　the　return　journey　from　Pinal　in　a　kind　of　diligence　that　we　hired。　It　was　reported　that　brigands　were　active　in　the　country　through　which　we　had　to　pass；　and　therefore　we　were　not　best　pleased　when　a　fat　Mexican；　who　was　convoying　a　huge　mass　of　pure　silver　from　some　mine；　insisted　upon　joining　our　party。　When　asked　why　he　was　so　determined　upon　the　point；　he　answered：　“Oh！　I　have　silver；　in　front　hide　brigands。　You　are　Englishmen；　and　the　English　will　always　fight！”　However；　we　saw　nothing　of　these　brigands；　perhaps　because　of　the　warlike　reputation　of　our　race。
On　our