A CHAPTER OF ANCIENT AMERICAN HISTORY 



By Herbert J. Spinden 



With photographs by the Author 



THE wreck of human handicraft 

 touches the heart and none of us 

 can fail to invest a ruined city 

 with the purple haze of romance. At 

 least it is safe to say that not a traveler 

 in Yucatan and Central America but 

 has been deeply stirred by the vestiges 

 of ancient empire that lie scattered 

 through the jungle. The ruins of Chichen 

 Itza, long famous 

 on account of their 

 size, accessibility and 

 healthful situation, 

 have been explained 

 by fanciful tales or 

 wrapped in impene- 

 trable mystery ac- 

 cording to the mood 

 or stock of informa- 

 tion of the person 

 descrilsing them. It 

 does not detract from 

 the wonder of this city 

 or the grandeur of its 

 buildings to say that 

 the light of recorded 

 history, somewhat 

 faintly to be sure, 

 shines upon its foun- 

 dation, its periods of 

 brilliancy and deca- 

 dence and its final 

 abandonment. But 

 first let us view the 

 monuments that time 

 has spared. 



To visit Chichen Itza, which is situ- 

 ated in northern Yucatan not far from 

 Valladolid, we leave the narrow gauge 

 railroad at the station of Dzitas and 

 then jolt for a never-to-be-forgotten 

 fifteen miles over the solid limestone 

 plain in a vehicle called a volan. This 



Atlantean figure carved from a single 

 bloclf . At Chichen Itza occur table altars, 

 consisting of a flat stone carried upon the 

 heads and hands of figures of this sort 



word volan means in Spanish " they 

 fly" but judging by unhappy experience, 

 "they leave the earth frequently and 

 return with emphasis" would be a 

 better etymology to follow. The volan 

 is a high, two-wheeled cart which travels 

 at top speed behind several mules. It 

 has no seat for the passenger but instead 

 a sort of box, hung from a stiff frame, in 

 which he reclines. As 

 this primitive trans- 

 port lurches along the 

 road, glimpses over the 

 edge of the box may 

 be caught of the tan- 

 gled jungle on either 

 hand wdth here and 

 there a trail making 

 off to some milpa 

 or cornfield. Finally, 

 when misused flesh 

 and bone can hardly 

 stand another bounce, 

 we arrive at the \i\- 

 lage of Piste with its 

 little cluster of palm- 

 thatched huts. A few 

 moments later, on 

 rounding a curve, we 

 flash into sight of a 

 stone temple crowning 

 a lofty pyramid — and 

 about us lie the ruins 

 of Chichen Itza, a cap- 

 ital city of the ancient 

 Maya empire. 

 Northern Yucatan is a limestone 

 plain without streams on the surface, but 

 here and there the roof of a subterranean 

 river has fallen in making huge natural 

 wells called "cenotes". At Chichen Itza 

 there are two cenotes: one, commonly 

 called the Sacred Cenote, was anciently 



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