Sometimes they would pass the night close by our camp, smoking and chatting for awhile after the evening meal, and then roll themselves in their blankets to enjoy a well-earned sleep.
We made many attempts to photograph the picturesque groups, but seldom with much success, as the sitters were so restless and shy under the ordeal that they would hide their faces or move away as soon as the camera was in position, and they could only be captured by a chance snap-shot. But here, as everywhere, there were exceptions to a rule, for two of our Indian visitors were so far advanced in civilization that as soon as they caught sight of the camera they promptly demanded a "medio" apiece for the privilege of taking their portraits, and insisted on payment in advance; but they seemed almost as quickly to repent of their bargain, and could only be induced to sit uneasily for a moment, and hastily made off before a second plate could be exposed. The Indians' objection to photography is due to the fear of "brujeria," or witchcraft, in which they are firm believers: and after all a medio was small pay for the risk they ran of being looked at naked through their clothes or having their insides filled full of snakes.
Sometimes we were awakened before dawn by the distant sound of a boy's shrill voice chanting a few bars of a melody, which was caught up by a chorus of men's voices a fifth lower, and repeated again and again as the sound rapidly approached our tent, and then died away in the distance. It was the morning hymn of a company of Indian pilgrims returning from the shrine of the Black Christ at Esquipulas, which lies distant many days' journey towards the frontier of Honduras. The great festival of the year is held in January, and then for a week or more the usually half-deserted little town of Esquipulas swarms with pilgrims. In old days its fame was so great that it attracted worshippers all the way from Mexico and Panama, and the fair which was carried on at the same time was the great commercial event of the year. Thither the English merchants from Belize brought their wares and carried on what was practically the whole of the foreign business of Honduras, Salvador, and Guatemala, taking in exchange the native-grown indigo. For some years the working of the neighbouring mines of Alotepeque helped to keep up business, but now steamships and railways have so changed the course of trade that the fair is of not more than local importance. The custom-loving Indian will, however, still cheerfully make a month's journey, cacaste on back, to pay his adoration to the Black Christ, and the huge church is still kept in good repair, although not many years ago it was despoiled of its rich treasure of gold and silver votive offerings by a troop of Guatemala cavalry which had been sent to defend the frontier against an attack from Salvador, and repaid itself for its patriotic services by looting one of its own
