AS I have said, the art of the Mayas, and of Chi-chen Itza particularly, represents several periods of culture. Some of the oldest examples of architecture, stone point-work, carvings, and murals, as well as temple ornaments and personal trinkets display the greatest artistry of design and craftsmanship.

Evidently art progressed until a golden age dawned, comparable in its way to the golden age of Greece. Just as Pericles and Praxiteles chiseled into stone a marvelous grace and beauty which later sculptors have never been able to excel, so these old Maya dreamers and creators have left behind them things more lovely than those of succeeding generations.

Gradually the golden Mayan age waned. Creative genius became more scarce. Sense of harmony and soaring imagination were dimmed. Technique itself became poorer.

And then came the renaissance—the period of Nahuatl influence when Chi-chen Itza probably reached its pinnacle of civic importance and new temples and palaces were built thick and fast. Art was encouraged and new genius arose, akin to that of the ancient masters, yet showing everywhere the influence of the Nahuatl invasion. But while the new art attained a high degree of excellence, it failed to reach the perfection of the older culture.

It is rather difficult to assign to a given period any building as a whole, or any piece of workmanship, because the older city was so frequently robbed of its art treasures in the construction of the newer city. Columns and cut stones and lintels were torn from the older and perhaps then nearly ruined buildings to be used in the newer edifices. As in the House of the Writing in the Dark, we see a lintel of such extraordinary beauty as compared with the rest of the structure that it cries aloud its story of ravishment from a nobler and older temple. Apparently the later builders cared nothing for the beauty of this stone, but took it simply because in size it was appropriate for their purpose.

In speaking of the three eras of Mayan culture in Chi-chen Itza, it is at least reasonable to suppose that the most ancient preceded the coming of the Itzas to the city; legend says there was a flourishing city here before the influx of the Itzas. The second period includes the rise and decline of art under the Itzas, ending with the Nahuatl-Aztec dominance. The third period approaches oblivion—the centuries following the decay of the Maya nations when “campers,” as Don Eduardo calls them, inhabited sparsely the old cities, and these people built nothing of permanence and despoiled much of the old art, knowing nothing of the past history and grandeur of the walls which provided a better shelter than they could build. The little of artistic merit which they created—if indeed, they created anything—is crude and inferior to the work of their ancestors. “Campers” probably lived in the Sacred City for two or three centuries preceding the coming of Montejo and until his advent.

All that remains of the first period is the nearly obliterated old Chi-chen Itza, where future exploration may bring to light many treasures. Add to these the precious carvings that have obviously been taken from the old city for the building of the newer city.

The second period is represented by the many temples and buildings, several in an almost perfect state of preservation, in the newer Chi-chen Itza, and the finds in the Sacred Well.

The third period is represented only in the waste and debris left by the “campers” in and about the structures of the preceding periods.

One striking characteristic of Mayan art is the skill of the ancient sculptor or painter in portraying the human figure and especially the human physiognomy. The faces in murals, friezes, and bas-reliefs are expressive, individual, full of character—the faces of men of intellect and purpose. Nearly always these portraits in stone or paint seem to have a sort of sublimity: an earnestness of mien, an inscrutability, and withal an utter lack of pompousness. None but great artists could so have caught the real character of the person portrayed. Mayan art is a decided step ahead of the art of the Egyptians, and beside it the Buddhas of the Orient seem insipid. There are, of course, grotesque figures and the many hieroglyphs which, it must be remembered, are not portraits but have been conventionalized into symbols far in advance of the original and more primitive picture-writing.

One of the most intriguing things is the constant recurrence of the mask of Kukul Can, often conventionalized to fit the particular wall of a building, frieze, or mural where it is used. And always it is shown with a long upturned snout which some casual observer has called an elephant’s trunk.

To go a bit afield, G. Elliot Smith’s “Elephants and Ethnologists” takes up this subject of the elephant’s head. He believes that several elaborately carved columns or stelÆ in Copan, another Mayan city, possibly more ancient than Chi-chen Itza, present credible pictures of elephants’ heads with the keepers or mahouts beside them. These carvings have caused considerable discussion; some stoutly maintain that they portray the elephant and others say the motif is derived from the tapir or from the head of the blue macaw. At any rate, the appearance is that of an elephant, but very likely is intended for the mask and nose of the great Maya hero-god Kukul Can.

Of the many murals in the Sacred City, those in the Temple of the Tigers are the most interesting. On the opposite page is a reproduction [missing] of the scene on the west wall; it is from a tracing done twenty-five years ago by Teoberto Maier, of whom I shall later give further account. Much of the lower part of the mural has since been defaced by vandals or has chipped away through natural causes. The colors are vivid and the battle action enthralling. Of the many human figures no two are in the same pose. At the upper right is the Itza king or ruler, protected by his king of serpents spitting fire and venom at the enemy. A little lower down, and in front, is the chief Itza general with his protecting serpent, and all about are warriors armed with hul-ches, darts, and shields. At the extreme left is the opposing general with his king of serpents and his warriors.[7] Near the bottom at the left are the Itza notables holding a consultation, and at the bottom, center, is the time-keeper with his calendar wheel.

Facing page 221 [missing] is an enlarged view of just a bit of this scene which, because of its larger size, gives a better idea of the technique of the painter.

Another part of the battle scene, covering the east wall, depicts the invading army coming over the mountains to attack the Itzas. At the left in the picture is an Itza general or ruler, supported as usual by his beneficent Ahau Can or king of serpents. He is identified as belonging to the Itzas by his typical Itzan costume. The figure with the symbolized protecting serpent is similar to many others to be seen elsewhere in Chi-chen Itza, in paintings and bas-reliefs. A little lower down is his commanding general, also with a protecting serpent, and all about are the Itza warriors, now, due to mutilation, indicated only by the heads of their spears, pointing upward toward the enemy. In the upper right-hand corner of the painting is an Itzan horn-blower, standing upon a temple. His nationality is evidenced by the knee-protectors he wears.

The invaders wear an entirely different style of clothing and their armament is not like that of the Itzas. For example, although they use the hul-che, their shields are rectangular—a shape never seen in Chi-chen Itza nor in the whole Maya area. Still more striking is the peculiarity of their head-dresses of three blue feathers with yellow tips surmounting the regular feathered head-gear. It is significant that Don Eduardo, some years ago in the excavation of a temple, uncovered a gigantic painted head having a head-dress of three blue feathers with yellow tips. The stone containing the picture of the head was found upside down, and from the situation in which it was discovered it had evidently been so placed originally and had not fallen or been displaced. The reversed position of the head was the Maya method of conveying the information that this foe was conquered.

Evidently the painting in the Tiger Temple was executed to commemorate the victory over the invaders of the blue feathers, and the other temple which Don Eduardo excavated also was decorated with murals that indicated victory.

On each of the shields of the invaders is shown a curious red symbol which indirectly gives a clue to the nationality of these foreigners. In the central part of the state of Vera Cruz are found the remains of a highly cultured people, the Totanacs. The descendants of this ancient clan still reside in the neighborhood and their language contains many Mayan words. Because of the peculiarity of the design, as shown on the engraving of a clay Totanac facing page 225 [missing], there can be no doubt that it is the same identically as appears on the shields in the Tiger Temple. The same peculiar design occurs frequently upon the ancient Totanac sculptures and pottery.

The Totanacs are neighbors to another tribe just to the north, the Huastecas, who spoke the pure Maya language and were a part of the Maya brotherhood. It seems probable either that they were left behind in the great Maya migration from the west or that their country was originally the home of those Mayas who later emigrated to Yucatan under the leadership of the mighty Kukul Can.

Either supposition might be correct, for it was in this locality that the now famous Tuxtla statuette was found which bears the earliest date ever discovered in this part of the world—113 B. C. The earliest date-stone in Chi-chen Itza is the one found by Don Eduardo and its date is more than seven hundred years later. During the interval between the two, or even before, the emigration to Yucatan from the west might have occurred.

Another curious thing in the Tiger Temple painting is the fact that the invaders are shown coming over mountains. Northern Yucatan contains no mountains, not even a high hill. But in the state of Vera Cruz there are mountains. There is little to substantiate any theory that the people of the Sacred City invaded Vera Cruz and it is much more probable that the Totanacs were the invaders.

In passing, another hypothesis of the ethnology of the Mayas is that they were descendants of the Toltecas, a peaceful and cultured people who inhabited Mexico proper before they were driven southward by the Nahuatl or Aztec tribes. In various places in Mexico, Toltecan remains have been found similar in construction and design to those in the Maya areas. Yucatan may have been the final stopping-place of these people, but as they moved ever southward, bands dropped out along the road, and settled.

It is known that many years later Aztec soldiers marched clear around the rim of the Gulf of Mexico and through the jungles to Chi-chen Itza, which was their final destination. Their influence is very evident in the buildings in newer Chi-chen Itza.

Because many of the murals in the Sacred City have reached the critical point of deterioration in the last decade or so, I have made a point of photographing as many of them as possible. Much of the photography has employed the color-separation process. All told, I have taken upward of a thousand photographs, and in addition I have made a large number of drawings or tracings where it was impossible to use the camera. A number of murals which were clear and perfect during my earlier trips to Yucatan, some eighteen years ago, are now entirely faded or chipped off.

From a minute study of the paintings I am reasonably sure that the artists of this past age waited until the walls of a building were completed and the inner surface had been covered with a thin, hard stucco, then they painted the whole wall-surface to an even tone of color, usually a light olive green. Upon this the outlines of their pictures were sketched, either with red chalk or some soft red stone. The outlines were then intensified with a brush dipped in red pigment. From the character of the brush-marks I judge the brushes to have been made of hair or feathers. The next step was the laying in of the colors, the pigment being mixed with some sort of varnish that dried and permitted other colors to be superimposed.

For example, take the figure of a man. After the outline was completed, the whole figure was painted flesh color. When this was dry, further outlining within the figure was done. Then another color was laid over the shield, clothing, and other portions. Some details of the shield might then be ornamented with still another color, and another would be laid on the bosses of the shield and perhaps several colors put into the head-dress. Wherever the red outlines were painted over, yet were needed for completion of the work, new red outlines were painted in.

Facing page 220 [Transcriber: missing] is the reproduction of a tracing I have made of a red outline, showing as faithfully as possible the beginning and ending of each brush-mark. It is in the same free-hand style used by the modern painter.

Bas-relief work was much used in the Sacred City and for this type of art the cracks between the stone-work were filled in with stucco to give an even surface and then the whole surface was polished. The artist cut his designs into both stone and stucco. I cannot say how this work was laid out, but it is reasonable to suppose that it was outlined in red chalk and pigment much as murals were. The incised work is from a quarter to half an inch deep and the figures stand out boldly, especially when the direction of the light is from a particularly favorable angle.

The projecting part of each relief was painted in identically the same manner as murals, one color after another being superimposed. A notable example of this type of art is found in the Temple of Bas-Reliefs, which is just back of the mound of the Tiger Temple, and is unique in the fact that it is situated upon level ground and not upon a pyramid.

Of this building there is still standing the right wall, nearly all the back wall, a fragment of the left wall, and about a fourth of the ceiling. The colors upon the bas-reliefs, with which walls and ceiling are covered, are quite clear except upon the left wall, where for some reason they are much faded but still distinguishable. On the ceiling the colors are remarkably distinct, especially several tones of blue. I recollect that my uncle, who painted the “Spirit of Seventy-Six,” once told me that blue is a fugitive color and that there is no such thing as permanent blue, which, he jokingly remarked, is the reason why painters use a pigment called “permanent blue.” The prevailing shade of blue used in these bas-reliefs is what artists of to-day would term indigo blue in various tones.

Appropriate coloring has been used throughout. The flesh is flesh-colored; garments, war-gear, everything is properly colored. In these as in nearly all the bas-reliefs, the incisions or background are colored a deep red, originally, I judge, as brilliant as Chinese vermilion but now mostly faded to a brick red.

These walls represent the very pinnacle of Maya art. There is nothing of antiquarian interest upon the American continents that excels or even approaches them. The figures are not stiff and unlifelike as are Egyptian figures. On the contrary, they are uncannily faithful portrayals of men in action. They are about three feet high, and on these walls are more than eighty figures of kings, gods, priests, and warriors. Many, particularly the priests, are clad in most wonderful and elaborate vestments. The warriors are more simply clothed and all carry hul-ches such as were actually found in the Sacred Well. Upon the back of each fighting man is a quiver holding five darts. Each dart bears the individual mark of its owner, so that if retrieved it might be returned to him.

The bas-reliefs depict six different scenes, and each runs completely about the room. Separating each scene from the one above it is the conventionalized body of a great serpent.

In all of this work I have discovered but one female figure. Below this figure is an ornamental border about eight inches high on which are engraved flowers and small human figures in curious acrobatic postures.

The front portion of the roof is now fallen in, but I surmise that originally the illumination of the building was such as to bring out the relief work most prominently.

At present one gets a much better impression of this work at about ten o’clock in the morning than at any other period of the day.

In the National Museum at Washington, there is a reproduction of these bas-reliefs, but this modern work has scarcely caught the spirit of the old Maya artists. It should be the immediate aim of archÆologists to preserve or duplicate the bas-reliefs in the most faithful manner, for the sake of posterity, for I doubt if we shall ever uncover anything finer in American antiquity.

Teoberto Maler spent a great deal of time in making photographs, drawings, and tracings of the old Maya murals and reliefs, and the world owes him a debt of gratitude for the minute care he took and the faithfulness of his reproductions. Maler, who is now deceased, was no mean antiquarian. He was also an artist and a man of most peculiar personality.

For several years his more or less undirected exploration was done for the Peabody Museum, and then he fell out with the heads of that institution and thereafter worked as a free-lance. For years his livelihood was derived by selling information, photographs, and drawings to dilettant antiquarians. So many of these failed to pay him for such services that the poor fellow became suspicious of virtually every one who attempted to be friendly with him. I called on him four times before I could even get him to talk about archÆology. But I always took several bottles of beer with me, so he became more cordial; and as I was especially careful not to question him in any way to indicate an interest in his work, he finally thawed out completely.

An Austrian by birth, he had accompanied the ill-fated Maximilian to Mexico and had finally drifted southward into Yucatan, where he centered his interest on archÆology.

One day he presented me with about twenty photographs from his collection, which I was happy to have, although some were discards. Seeing the sincerity of my gratitude, he offered to show me some things which he said had never been seen by any one else. Among these treasures was his excellent tracing of the battle scene in the Tiger Temple. The next day I asked him with some trepidation if I might make a copy of the tracing. He was quite willing and when I suggested that I would travel to MÉrida to get some tracing-paper for the purpose he produced a whole roll of it. I spent an entire week making this tracing and several others, Maler working beside me and helping for several hours each day.

I tried to pay him when the work was completed, but he would never accept a penny, saying I was the only man who had ever come to him without trying to get something for nothing, and he repeated this remark, I have been told, to other people. He told me he trusted only two men in the world. Naturally, I was very glad to have won his regard.

One day, some years later, he showed me several golden ornaments which I afterward found had come in some devious way from the Sacred Well. I fortunately made some photographs and drawings of them, for the next year, when I asked to see them again, Maier no longer had them. Some he had evidently sold to a museum abroad and the remainder he had disposed of otherwise.

Maler had a foolish hatred for Don Eduardo and called him “falsifier Thompson,” but the latter had no such feeling toward Maler; in fact, one can scarcely imagine Don Eduardo’s hating anybody.

During one of my visits Maler promised me that the following year we should make a two weeks’ journey into the interior of Yucatan, where he had discovered a temple unknown to the world which contained some marvelous murals. He said that he had discovered an underground entrance to the temple and when he left he had covered up the entrance and planted shrubbery over it so that it would remain hidden from archÆologists. At that time I made a tracing of one of his drawings, showing a wall of this temple on which is depicted a water scene, with a volcano spouting fire and smoke, buildings falling into the water, people drowning, and a figure dressed like a warrior, paddling away from the scene, in a boat. Maler was a firm believer in the Lost Atlantis theory and contended that this picture represented the destruction of Atlantis. It was an obsession with him that nothing from this secret temple should come into the possession of what he termed “that infamous museum.”

I shall always regret that Maler died before I was able to make the intended trip with him to this hidden temple, as the knowledge of its location died with him.

Teoberto Maler, soldier of fortune, artist, archÆologist, and eccentric misanthrope, yet at heart kindly and lovable, died of a fever three years ago, in his adopted land of Yucatan. All of his personal belongings were taken over by the Austrian consul, and I am told that except for his numerous photographs and drawings there was nothing among them of value.

Among the modern inventions which the antiquarian has to be thankful for, place first in the list the camera, which makes possible faithful reproductions, frequently under most unfavorable conditions. Compare modern photography with the difficulties that beset Catherwood, who made the exceptionally fine engravings with which Stephens’s books are illustrated. Catherwood did his work nearly eighty years ago, using a “camera obscura,” a rather clumsy device which projects an image on a screen so that it may be traced. In making a single tracing Catherwood worked for hours at a stretch in the tropic heat, beset by insect pests, whereas to-day a few moments with a camera would be sufficient.

One of the interesting things shown in the old murals and bas-reliefs is the diversity of costumes. The dress of the figures varies from the simple wide belt, with flaps hanging down front and back, to the very elaborate vestments of the priests. To the belt might be fastened armor of heavy quilted cotton or of wood or even of metal.

The costume of the warrior always included an ornate feathered head-dress and there was wide variation in these head-ornaments. In some cases they were made of wood in the shape of a bird or other animal and the surface was covered with a thin layer of metal such as beaten copper or gold or with well-tanned deerskin or of finely woven cotton fabric embroidered with feather-work. From the top of the head-dress, feathers sometimes descended in graceful curves clear to the ground. The entire head, wings, and tail of a bird were often a part of the head-gear. The head-gear of kings and nobles was decorated with the feathers of the sacred quetzel, or bird of paradise. On a few of the pictured head-ornaments, one or more serpents’ heads are seen, and these may have been a symbol of rank or the coat of arms, so to speak, of a certain family. In other cases the front of the head-piece shows the face or mask of some deity, often the face of Kukul Can.

Fastened about the warrior’s neck is often a cape of cotton fabric so heavily embroidered with feathers that it appears to consist of feathers alone. Some of these capes or tunics are covered with metal scales to ward off the thrust of spear or dart. The Maya love of finery is indicated by the ubiquitous string of jade beads about the neck, ending in a heavy jade pendant or medallion. Such beads are worn by many of the pictured figures.

Around the warrior’s waist is a wide, embroidered belt supporting an ornamented apron. Protectors of feather-work surround the knees, and upon the wrists are curious wristlets. Sandals are made of deerskin or heavy felt and are decorated with geometrical figures; they are laced in front and frequently have high sides like a shoe. Both deerskin and felt sandals have been found in the Sacred Well. A band is worn around each ankle, with feathers projecting from the front. This band is purely decorative and has no connection with the sandal.

Usually the fighting-man is shown either holding five darts in his left hand or having that number of darts in a quiver on his back. In his right hand he grasps the hul-che.

Some of the figures have their arms almost entirely obscured by bands covered with feathers. Other figures wear cloaks or mantles fastened at the throat and reaching nearly to the ground. These are generally embroidered heavily with the feather-work so dear to the ancient Mayas.

Figures are also shown wielding the formidable spear tipped with flint. Some of the spear-heads taken from the Sacred Well are from eight to nine inches long and two to three inches wide, and razor-edged. Spears were usually gaily decorated with feathers attached to the shaft where it joined the head. In the bas-reliefs is shown, also, a spear-head with serrated edges. For fighting at close quarters the battle-ax was used. It consisted of one or several stones or of a metal blade fitted into a wooden helve.

In addition to the armor worn there were shields. Some of the shields were built to fit closely the back and sides of the warrior and were fastened to the broad band of his belt. Other shields, carried in the usual manner, were made and ornamented in several different ways. Usually the base was wood, embossed with metal, studded with jewels or ornamented with feathers. I was fortunate enough to be with Don Eduardo at one time during the dredging of the well and had the thrill of picking from the muck of the dredge the golden section of a shield-front, which had been a large round ornamented disk of considerable size, embellished with carvings of flowers and scrolls.

The net also was used in battle and, as shown in the bas-reliefs, was carried by the spear-thrower, in his left hand. Very likely it was effective in stopping the thrust of a spear. Or—who knows?—it may have been used to entangle the enemy in the manner of the Roman gladiator armed with net and trident.

The warriors went into battle to the resounding blare of horns, and trumpets were used to signal troops in action. There were whole companies of horn-blowers, each man provided with a horn nearly as tall as himself. Horns and horn-blowers are clearly shown in the murals of a second-story room in La Casa de las Monjas.

Our information obtained from a study of the bas-reliefs and murals and from the articles retrieved from the Sacred Well and other finds checks with remarkable closeness the writings of Landa, whose sources of knowledge were chiefly legend and the old Maya writings. Landa says:

They had for their defense round shields which they made of split reeds woven round and adorned with deer-skins. They had jackets padded with cotton and filled with salt. These were of two thicknesses or layers of padding and extremely strong.

Some of the chiefs and captains had helmets of wood. They went to war with plumage and tiger and jaguar skins on—those that had them. They always had two captains, one hereditary and perpetual, the other selected with much ceremony for a term of three years.

On the roads and passes they erected defenses of twigs and wood and sometimes of stone for their archers.[8] If they captured some distinguished man, they sacrificed him, because they did not want to leave alive anyone who might later harm them.

They had hatchets of certain metal which they fastened into handles of wood and these served them as arms and also as instruments to cut wood. These they sharpened by pounding with a stone to harden them as the metal was virginally soft. They had small, short lances with points of hard flint.

In their earth there was not discovered until now any kind of metal with which they might make implements with which to work on their numerous edifices. However, not having metals, they found in the earth flint with which they made materials for their lances which they used in their wars; and the knives for sacrifice were made from flint which the priests had selected.[9]

They had a certain kind of white brass with admixture of gold from which they made their hatchets for different functions and also hawk-shells and a certain kind of small chisel with which they made their idols. The brass and other plates of metal and hard copper plates they used to barter for things from Tabasco for their idols, trading back and forth.

In the illustration following page 241 may be seen the more elaborate costume of the priests. This illustration of a small section of the back wall of the Temple of the Bas-Reliefs represents a religious ceremony. The whole wall is covered with figures of priests and warriors paying devotion to Ahau Can, the king of serpents.

The Great Serpent looms majestically over and about the high priest, who is decked in gorgeous apparel. Mask and helmet cover his face and head, and from his body intricate scrolls extend in all directions, denoting the words or chant to which he is giving voice. In his hand he holds a shield over the surface of which the body of the protecting serpent undulates. From the mouth of the Great Serpent issue scrolls of red and yellow, which may be words or venom.

Perhaps one may realize from this sculpture how keen was the decorative sense of these ancient people. It was ever seeking an outlet for expression. The undecorated space on wall or ceiling must have seemed to the Maya artist an inartistic space. He crowded his areas with ornamentation, yet with so nice a balance, so true a harmony that he achieved a perfect result without giving an impression of congestion.

Other figures show the use of ear- and nose-ornaments and of labrets made of thin disks of gold and of highly polished jade.

Finally, there are the wonderfully worked ornaments of fine flint, flawless and shaped curiously like the parts of a bishop’s crozier.

In the Tiger Temple is a frieze near the top of the wall, extending clear around the four sides, which shows a procession of jaguars. It is a thing of sheer beauty, for the artist has caught in his paintings the very nature of the beast. There he is, in all his slinking, lithe, feline ferocity, conventionalized but losing nothing of his character.

Above and below the row of jaguars is an ornamentation of conventionalized serpent motif which is graceful, accentuating the litheness and grace of the huge cats. The whole frieze is done on a surface of stone polished to such smoothness that it conveys the idea of white marble worked by the hand of an old Italian master.

Another remarkable mural was upon a stone which was found by Sylvanus Morley in the debris of a partially ruined temple in old Chi-chen Itza which he named the Temple of the Owls. It is so named from the fact that many of the fallen columns bear sculptures of owls. For a number of reasons I believe that this is one of the earlier temples, built when Maya art was at its best, and I was thrilled at the quality of workmanship on the stone. The colors were much faded and the entire picture too faint for the camera. I found first, in cleaning the corners or unimportant parts by washing in water, that the paint would stand almost any sort of gentle rubbing. In fact, the only way it could be destroyed was by scraping it off with an edged tool. Washing showed that the colors were somewhat more vivid when the stone was wet and it occurred to me that it could be treated in much the same manner as an old oil painting, which may be greatly revivified by cleaning and then applying a coat of varnish.

Acting on this assumption, I first cleaned the stone with a weak solution of hydrochloric acid, which had no effect on the pigments but did remove much dirt. The next question was varnish. I had some turpentine and a few other chemicals but no varnish. And then I thought of the copal incense that Don Eduardo had taken from the Sacred Well. I took a ball of this and scraped off the calcined outer surface. The remainder of the copal I broke up and placed in an earthen bowl which also came from the well. Then I added a little turpentine and heated the mixture over a slow fire until the copal was melted. Finally I strained the liquid through a piece of cloth and had an excellent transparent copal varnish. I tried it out on several unimportant stones and found that it gave a fine surface gloss. I then applied it very carefully to the painted stone I had discovered, first to the blue border and then to the whole surface. I was overjoyed, when the varnish had dried, to find the colors magically restored, several of them being nearly as bright, I think, as when originally applied, perhaps a thousand years before.

It was now a simple matter to obtain excellent photographs and I took several, both in black and white and with color separations.

This stone, which I named the Stone of Kukul Can, told a complete story. It represented the long-nosed god, the particular deity of the Sacred City, emerging from the mouth of a serpent, just as shown in the old Maya books and in many other places. In other words, it depicted the birth of Kukul Can, the feathered-serpent god. Below the serpent and the figure of the god was shown the bowl of the earth, or the archaic representation of the earth. Here and there were cacao pods, from which was obtained chocolate—then as now an important article of food, a highly prized delicacy among the Mayas and other races. Cacao is one of the fruits the Mayas thought to have been brought them by Kukul Can.

The god held in his hands emblems of life and generation. Above were the celestial heaven and the zodiac. At right and left were the hieroglyphs of the sun and planets. On the upper margin was an inscription. The whole was majestic and exquisitely done. It indicated all of the good things of life,—prosperity and plenty,—bestowed upon his people by the mighty god Kukul Can, born of a serpent.

When I had finished photographing and studying this extraordinary stone, I wrapped it carefully and stored it in Don Eduardo’s hacienda, where it was later ruined when the hacienda was burned by unruly Indians.

This lost stone was an excellent example of the older and finer Maya art and a careful comparison of it, as photographed, with the pages of the Perez Codex, one of the few remaining ancient Maya books (now in the National Library in Paris), shows its similarity to the work therein displayed. The portraits of Kukul Can are identical. The hieroglyphs have the same peculiarities of shading, due to the stroke of the brush being heavier on one side than on the other. If the artist who painted the Stone of Kukul Can did not also illuminate some of the Maya books, he at least belonged to the same period and the same school of artists. I am sure that the great work of Mr. Morley of the Carnegie Foundation, which is now going on at Chi-chen Itza, will uncover many more stones similar to this one and it will be demonstrated that many of the Maya books were produced in the ancient city.

Very frequently in the murals or the bas-reliefs, where figures of men are shown, the glyph representing the man’s name appears above his portrait. Thus we have “Mr. Can,” or, in English, “Mr. Snake,” as in the second cut opposite page 112 [missing]. Above him is the carving of a serpent. This gentleman has the conventional nose- and ear-ornaments and over his head is the double feather of a warrior. From his mouth issues a scroll representing speech. Other figures are “Mr. Duck,” “Mr. Phallus,” etc.

In one of the Codices is shown an eclipse of the sun. It is remarkably well drawn in colors.[10] At the top of the page is what may be called the text, which we are not able to read although we know many of the characters. Directly below is the celestial band, representing sun, moon, and planets. Dependent from this band are three hieroglyphs of the sun in the heavens. The central figure is the sun, and wings at left and right mean movement of that body, or day and night. Under each of these figures is a bird in the act of devouring the sun. The word for eclipse in Maya is chi-bal-kin, literally “mouth-action sun,” or “bitten sun,” and it was the ancient belief, which persisted until fairly recent times, that at the time of an eclipse the sun was bitten by a serpent or by birds or other creatures.

Beneath each picture representing the devouring of the sun are the date-glyphs.

An interesting colored mural from the ceiling of La Casa de las Monjas shows a warrior standing upon a pyramidal structure. In his left hand is the hul-che and in his right a shield and battle-ax. He has just shot two lances to which are fastened firebrands, which have passed over a walled inclosure and are intended to set fire to the buildings within. In one corner of this picture is a building representing the Iglesia (one of the annexes of the Nunnery) or a similar structure, as denoted by the mask of Kukul Can sticking out from the wall of the building. In the foreground, at the left, is a mammoth head-dress, which may be explained by the fact that it was not uncommon for the Maya artist to make a picture and then to introduce into the foreground large figures entirely out of proportion to the remainder of the picture.

As for full-relief carving, one need only see the serpent columns of El Castillo or the Tiger Temple, and the serpent balustrades, to know that the Maya artists were fully as skilful at such work as in producing bas-relief and murals.

Among the pottery, incense-burners, and funerary urns discovered at Chi-chen Itza are frequently exceptionally fine examples of ceramic art. A vase of a substance like alabaster found by Don Eduardo is a thing of matchless beauty.

Of metal-work in gold and copper there are many pieces indicating great skill and artistry. Jade ornaments such as beads and plaques are exquisitely worked and perfectly polished.

Of stone point-work, heads of darts and spears, and blades of battle-axes, as well as cutting-tools and weapons, nothing has been found in America which can compare to the Maya work. The sacrificial knives found in the well are peerless in their artistry.

The art of the Mayas shows the greatest variety in media, style, and technique. Even casual observation of that in the Sacred City shows that many different painters and sculptors were employed; yet everywhere painted or carved figures are natural, true to life, the proportions perfect. The best are comparable to those of ancient Greece; the worst, though crude, are never stiff and mechanical like those of Egyptian art.

Unfortunately there are no statues like the Memnon of Thebes nor the Apollo Belvidere, for the Mayas did not produce statuary or monolithic carving, with the few rare exceptions of Chac Mool figures and serpent columns. Rather their effort was toward detail and precision of figure and design. Some of the carvings are so minute that they are hard to see easily without a magnifying-glass. We can only wonder at the exceptional ability of this ancient people to originate, imitate, and express in stone or pigment or by the goldsmith’s or the lapidary’s art.