THE ISTHMUS OF TEHUANTEPEC 



993 



from one plantation to another, but the 

 old-time ox carts have not yet been dis- 

 carded. 



The town of Coatzacoalcos, at the 

 mouth of the great river, has undergone 

 the greatest change. Once a veritable 

 fever hole, it is now rapidly being mod- 

 ernized and brought into some semblance 

 of sanitation. Long wharves jut out 

 from the water front, and fireproof ware- 

 houses and electric cranes give to the 

 town a business-like appearance. 



About this river, the Winding Snake, 

 is woven a curious folk-legend, which 

 explains to the native mind the origin 

 of the tree called the Raho de Lagarto, 

 or the alligator's tail, which tree is very 

 often seen in that part of the country. 



This legend runs thus : 



Many years before man was seen upon 

 this earth, alligators in great numbers 

 made their homes on the banks of the 

 River of the Winding Snake, whiling 

 away the time in sunning and warming 

 themselves. 



The young alligators often grew rest- 

 less and curious of what lay beyond, 

 over in the woods where the monkeys 

 and parrots chattered and the great cats 

 wandered about. ''How wide is the for- 

 est?" and ''Where do the paths lead to 

 that wind away into the woods?" were 

 questions they were continually asking 

 each other. 



One day, while the young alligators 

 were sunning themselves on the bank, 

 two very strange creatures came walking 

 by and stopped to rest near the root of 

 a big tree. One said to the other, "Do 

 look at those alligators. They are ex- 

 actly like the alligators on the other side 

 of the mountains, and there the foolish 

 people believe them to be gods and feed 

 and care for them until they grow so big 

 and fat that they can hardly move." 



With that they moved along, leaving 

 great excitement behind them in the 

 fiver, for the young alligators were re- 

 solved to seek their fortunes on the other 

 side of the mountains. Paying no heed 

 to the warnings of their elders, they met 

 at a certain bend of the river the follow- 

 ing morning and set out swimming all 



day up stream. When night came they 

 were so tired that they crept out from 

 the river to sleep among the marsh 

 weeds. Sleeping soundly, they did not 

 hear the water gods who suddenly came 

 upon them. These water gods were 

 friends of the alligators, and had warned 

 them long ago that they must never leave 

 their homes. So, finding that they had 

 been disobeyed, they summoned the 

 spirit of the hills and commanded him 

 to take the wanderers far into the forest 

 and leave them standing on their heads. 

 There they can be seen to this day turned 

 into living trees. As time went on and 

 the little alligators did not return to their 

 home, the old ones lost hope and began 

 to weep, shedding so many alligator tears 

 that the mouth of the Coatzacoalcos 

 River has ever since been salty. 



The "salty mouth" of the Coatzacoalcos, 

 with a width of some 2,000 feet, forms 

 a good natural harbor, and has been 

 turned into the Atlantic port for the 

 isthmus railroad. 



AI.ONG THE ISTHMUS ROUTE) 



From Coatzacoalcos the road gradually 

 begins to climb the Cordillera, which di- 

 vides the Gulf slope from that of the 

 Pacific. Much of the route lies through 

 wild and beautiful country, with tall 

 manaca palms (Attalea cohune) and for- 

 est trees topping a thickly matted jungle, 

 and here and there a quaint little Indian 

 village on the banks of a shaded, shallow 

 river. The picturesque Malatengo Canon, 

 with its rocky chasms, is followed by the 

 Chivela Pass, entered at a height of 735 

 feet above sea-level, the highest point on 

 the isthmus. 



Looking up from the bottom of this 

 wild canon, the walls appear almost to 

 meet, and only a narrow strip of blue 

 sky can be seen far above. Some days, 

 when the Gulf wind drives the ocean 

 clouds overhead, the canon seems filled 

 with mist and gloom. It is then that the 

 wild legends and romantic tales that the 

 Indians still tell of this region linger in 

 one's mind. 



Leaving the pass, the train crawls 

 down the Pacific slope of the Sierra 



