ARRIVAL AT BOLONCHEN. 



141 



of a sculptured body; the legs, too, were gone. 

 At the end was an arch, which seemed, at a dis- 

 tance, to stand entire and alone, like that named 

 the arch of triumph at Kabah ; but it proved to be 

 only the open and broken arch of a ruined building. 

 From the extent of these remains, the masses of 

 sculptured stones, and the execution of the carving, 

 this must have been one of the first class of the ab- 

 original cities. In moral influence there was none 

 more powerful. Ruin had been so complete that 

 we could not profit by the kindness of our friends, 

 and it was melancholy that when so much had been 

 done for us, there was so little for us to do. It was 

 but another witness to the desolation that had swept 

 over the land. 



A short ride brought us to the suburbs of the village 

 of Bolonchen, and we entered a long street, with a 

 line of straggling houses or huts on each side. It was 

 late in the afternoon. Indian children were playing 

 in the road, and Indians, returned from their work, 

 were swinging in hammocks within the huts. As we 

 advanced, we saw a vecino, with a few neighbours 

 around him, sitting in the doorway thrumming a gui- 

 tar. It was, perhaps, a scene of indolence, but it was 

 one of quiet and contentment, of comfort and even 

 thrift. Often, in entering the disturbed villages of 

 Central America, among intoxicated Indians and 

 swaggering white men, all armed, we felt a degree of 

 uneasiness. The faces that looked upon us seemed 

 scowling and suspicious; we always apprehended 



