to Mexico, on the other side of the great sierra
(chain of mountains), was a large and populous
city, occupied by Indians, existing precisely
in the same state as before the discovery of
America. The Padre had heard of it many years
before, at the village of Chajul, and was told
by the villagers that from the topmost ridge
of the sierra this city was distinctly visible.
He was then young, and with much labour
climbed to the naked summit of the sierra,
from which, at a height of ten or twelve
thousand feet, he looked over an immense
plain, extending to Yucatan and the Gulf of
Mexico, and saw at a great distance a large
city spread over a great space, and with
turrets white and glittering in the sun. The
traditionary account of the Indians of Chajul
is, that no white man has ever reached this
city; that the inhabitants speak the Maya
language, are aware that a race of strangers
has conquered the whole country around; and,
with that fact ever present in their minds,
murder any white man who attempts to enter
their territory. They have no coin or other
circulating medium; no horses, cattle, mules,
or other domestic animals, except fowls; and
the cocks they keep under ground to prevent
their crowing being heard by white travellers.

"There was in all this," says Stephens, "a
wild novelty—something that touched the
imagination; the old Padre, in the deep
stillness of the dimly-lighted convent, with
his long black coat like a robe, and his flashing
eye, called up an image of the bold
and resolute priests who accompanied the
armies of the conquerors; and, as he drew a
map on the table, and pointed out the sierra
to the top of which he had climbed, and the
position of the mysterious city, the interest
awakened in us was the most thrilling I ever
experienced. One look at that city was
worth ten years of an every-day life. If he is
right, a place is left where Indians and an
Indian city exist, as Cortez and Alvarado
found them; there are living men who can
solve the mystery that hangs over the ruined
cities of America; perhaps who can go to
Copan, and read the inscriptions on its
monuments. No subject more exciting and
attractive presents itself to my mind, and the
deep impression of that night will never be
effaced.

"Can it be true? Being now in my sober
senses, I do verily believe there is much
ground to suppose that what the Padre told
us is authentic. That the region referred to
does not acknowledge the authority of Guatemala,
has never been explored, and that no
white man ever pretends to have entered it, I
am satisfied. From other sources, we heard
that from that sierra a large ruined city was
visible; and we were told of another person
who had climbed to the top of the sierra, but,
on account of the dense cloud resting upon it,
had been unable to see anything. At all
events, the belief at the village of Chajul is
general, and a curiosity is roused that burns
to be satisfied. We had a craving desire to
reach the mysterious city. No man, even if
willing to peril his life, could undertake the
enterprise, with any hope of success, without
hovering for one or two years on the borders
of the country, studying the language and
character of the adjoining Indians, and making
acquaintance with some of the natives.
Five hundred men could probably march
directly to the city, and the invasion would
be more justifiable than any ever made by the
Spaniards; but the government is too much
occupied with its own wars, and the
knowledge could not be procured except at the
price of blood. Two young men of good
constitution, and who could afford to spare five
years, might succeed."

Upon this hint (as we learn from an
advertisement in the Boston newspapers) two
young men—one a Mr. Huertis, of Baltimore,
in the United States, a man of fortune,
who had travelled in Egypt, Persia, and
Syria, for the inspection of ancient
monuments; the other a civil engineer, from
Canada, named Hammond—sailed from New
Orleans, in 1848, on this perilous and romantic
enterprise. They reached Coban on Christmas
day, where they met a Spanish merchant,
Pedro Velasquez, of San Salvador. He was
well acquainted with the country, and knew
several of the dialects of the Indians through
whose territories they had to pass. He
agreed to accompany them. Providing
themselves with mules, provender, and an escort of
Indians, they commenced their journey to the
unknown city. After many perils, they arrived
at the top of the high mountain, from which
Stephens's priest saw this City of the Sun.
They also beheld its domes, turrets, and walls.
They descended, and travelled on till they
came near the amphitheatre of hills which
they thought enclosed the object of their
search. They met small groups of Indians,
whose dialect they could not understand, and
who seemed amazed at seeing them. One of
these, however, made them understand that,
"about thirty moons ago," a man of the same
race as Hammond (who had a florid
complexion and red whiskers) had been sacrificed
and eaten by the Maebenachs, or Priests of
Iximaya, the great city among the hills.

Presently a troop of horsemen passed
them, in red and yellow tunics, armed with
spears, and each holding in a leash a brace
of Spanish bloodhounds, of the purest breed.
Their informer told them this was a detachment
of rural guards which had been
appointed since the Spanish invasion to hunt
down and capture all strangers that should
be found within a circle of twelve leagues of
the city. An engagement ensued, in which
the travellers were victors, thanks to their
rifles, which created as great a panic as the
fire-arms of Cortez. Huertis explained to
their chief that they were friendly strangers,
who desired their hospitality, and to see their
magnificent city. The chief said his countrymen