214 



INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL. 



their hearts ; and mothers, regardless of their infants' 

 cries, sat motionless, their countenances fixed in high 

 and stern enthusiasm. It was the same church, and we 

 could imagine them to be the same women who, in a 

 phrensy and fury of fanaticism, had dragged the unhap- 

 py vice-president by the hair, and murdered him with 

 their hands. Every moment the excitement grew 

 stronger. The priest tore off his black cap, and lean- 

 ing over the pulpit, stretched forward both his arms, 

 and poured out a frantic apostrophe to the bleeding fig- 

 ure on the cross. A dreadful groan, almost curdling 

 the blood, ran through the church. At this moment, at 

 a signal from the cura, the Indians sprang upon the ar- 

 bour of pine branches, tore it asunder, and with a noise 

 like the crackling of a great conflagration, struggling 

 and scuffling around the altar, broke into bits the con- 

 secrated branches to save as holy relics. Two Indians 

 in broad-brimmed hats mounted the ladders on each 

 side of the cross, and with embroidered cloth over their 

 hands, and large silver pincers, drew out the spikes 

 from the hands. The feelings of the women burst forth 

 in tears, sobs, groans, and shrieks of lamentation, so 

 loud and deep, that, coming upon us unexpectedly, our 

 feelings were disturbed, and even with sane men the 

 empire of reason tottered. Such screams of anguish I 

 never heard called out .by mortal suffering ; and as the 

 body, smeared with blood, was held aloft under the pul- 

 . pit, while the priest leaned down and apostrophized it 

 with frantic fervour, and the mass of women, wild with 

 excitement, heaved to and fro like the surges of a troub- 

 led sea, the whole scene was so thrilling, so dreadfully 

 mournful, that, without knowing why, tears started from 

 our eyes. Four years before, at Jerusalem, on Mount 

 Calvary itself, and in presence of the scoffing Mussul- 



