Chankin first took a path to the large waterfall. The river, which was very full at this season, rushed with tremendous force downward over terraced rocks into the lake. Our Indian took his way unconcernedly through the midst of this mass of water. I had had a stout walking-stick cut for myself, and there was nothing for me to do but to follow the man or to stay behind. Bracing myself firmly with my staff against the rocks, I too walked through the waterfall in extreme danger of being hurled into the foaming depths by the impetus of the rushing water. Taking off their shoes, three of my men followed very reluctantly. We then went on over desperately rough trails, soon reaching the same river (as I have reason to suppose) at a spot where it was spanned by the long and thick trunk of a tree, which at this time was about eighty centimetres below the surface of the water. At this place the river was several metres deep and impassable; so our Indian went straight over the smooth tree-trunk, in doing which the prehensile power of his toes was of great advantage to him. By the aid of a long pole in one hand and a shorter staff in the other, I succeeded with extreme difficulty in crossing. My men also made their way across by the aid of poles. Soon we had to cross the river for a third time, and again on the long and thick trunk of a tree, which this time, by way of variety, was suspended high above the water. We also successfully passed through this third and last Orphean ordeal to which Chankin subjected us.
On our way, however, between the first and second tree-bridges, we had caught glimpses among the trees on our right of "the dead brother's" large milpa, and I told my grumbling men that we should under no conditions go back over the frightful path by which Chankin had brought us, but that on our return we would clear a path to this milpa and then return to our landing-place by the trail we already knew.
After crossing the river for the third time, the path improved. We might have travelled about an hour, when we heard the barking of dogs and the hollow sound of conch-shells, Strombus gigas, with which the Indians greeted our arrival. The forest opened. We entered a milpa of tall and luxuriant maize, and from its group of huts Chankin's brother-in-law, el suegro, named Māx (mās) came to meet us surrounded by other Indians, including women and children. I saluted Māx, and explained my purpose in coming, while Chankin reported to him in Maya all the circumstances under which he had found us, so that I had no doubt that Chankin had been despatched to reconnoitre, purposely taking with him his wife and little children to cover his intentions.
Māx was not at all overjoyed at our arrival, but resigned himself to the inevitable. He promised us provisions — maize bread, potsol, māxcal, etc. - for the next day, when I was to visit him again with my men. For the present I found myself compelled to return as quickly as possible to the camp, as the day was near its end and we were threatened with a down-
