The natives were all round
us, burning the country, and we could hear their cries. This morning
we had ridden through two fresh fires, which they lit, probably, to
prevent our progress; they followed us up to this water. I suppose
they were annoyed at our finding such a remarkably well-hidden place.
It is a very singular little glen. There are several small mounds of
stones placed at even distances apart, and, though the ground was
originally all stones, places like paths have been cleared between
them. There was also a large, bare, flat rock in the centre of these
strange heaps, which were not more than two and a half feet high. I
concluded--it may be said uncharitably, but then I know some of the
ways and customs of these people--that these are small kinds of
teocallis, and that on the bare rock already mentioned the natives
have performed, and will again perform, their horrid rites of human
butchery, and that the drippings of the pellucid fountains from the
rocky basins above have been echoed and re-echoed by the dripping
fountains of human gore from the veins and arteries of their bound and
helpless victims. Though the day was hot, the shade and the water were
cool, and we could indulge in a most luxurious bath.
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