[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

generator at the entrance.
In this spot, it was possible for all of us, including Jonathan, who was
tallest, to stand quite easily, but ahead there were some very low overhangs.
Lucas led the way, sticking to what appeared to be the main tunnel, which was
barely wide enough for one person to pass. Workmen were coming and going, and
when one of them approached with a wheelbarrow, we had to press ourselves flat
against the wall of the tunnel.
Occasionally we needed to crawl on our hands and knees under low overhangs.
From time to time I could see side tunnels branching off into darkness.
The tunnel always angled downward, and the air became increasingly warm and
dank as we proceeded.
After several minutes of this, when we must have been many feet below the
surface, the tunnel came to an abrupt end, and we found ourselves in a large
round cavern, several yards in diameter.
Here a very bright spotlight had been set up, and in its beam, three or four
workmen were patiently brushing away at the rock face on one side of the
cavern.
Two huge carved masks dominated the cavern, one on each side. Still partially
covered in dirt, they were nonetheless impressive, at least seven or eight
Page 51
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
feet high, with large eyes complete with staring pupils, long noses, and
earlobes adorned with large round ornaments. Mouths agape, lips drawn back,
tongues protruding, they were Chacs, Maya rain gods, much revered by the
Yucatecan Maya at the time of the conquest.
After several minutes of gazing almost hypnotically at the masks, I became
aware of the sound of water. At the far side of the cavern was another tunnel.
This one, however, dropped off precipitously into darkness.
At the bottom, Jonathan told us, was a cenote, a smaller version of the Well
of Sacrifice we had seen earlier at Chichen Itza. A rather rudimentary rope
fence strung from wooden stakes protected the edge. Leaning over, it was not
possible to see the water below. Jonathan dropped a pebble. It bounced down
the sides, and then splashed. The water was a long way down.
 Are there artifacts down there? I asked.
 Don t know yet, Jonathan replied.  We aren t planning to dredge the cenote
until we finish the work up here, several weeks from now. As you can
appreciate, it will be quite a task, with no daylight to help us.
Over to one side was a mound of pieces of rock, bits of bone, pottery, and
other things.
 What are these? I asked.
 That  Jonathan smiled  is what we archaeologists lovingly refer to as the
GOK pile God Only Knows. We ll work on identifying it all later.
 But come and see what we can identify, Jonathan urged, taking us over to
some large wooden crates, about three feet by four feet, in which were laid
out trays of pottery shards, all carefully numbered and cataloged and set in
unbleached cotton, beads that might be jade, and in one tray, beautifully
carved flint blades, each different, and each a magnificent work of art.
 So far we have found eight of these blades, Jonathan explained.
 There will be nine, Lucas said.  Nine blades for the nine Lords of
Darkness. His infrequent contributions to the conversations never failed to
surprise me.
Page 52
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
 Lucas may be right. There is no question these caves were considered to be
entrances to the underworld, to Xibalba. We believe this must have been a very
sacred spot. We don t really know why these blades were hidden here, or what
ceremonies may have taken place beneath the surface of the earth, but we feel
it must have been important, Jonathan said.
 Perhaps this was a place their king, the ahau, would come alone to fast and
commune with the ancestors and gods. After days of fasting and praying, in a
trancelike state, the king would pierce his tongue or his genitals with a
stingray spine. The blood thus shed dripped onto paper which was burned to
appease the gods. The king would then appear before his people, his white robe
stained with his own blood. As gruesome as it might seem to us, blood was
believed to carry the soul, and this was a powerful ritual for the Maya, one
that, like the ball game, ensured the continuing cycle of life.
 Think of the people working underground, without benefit of electric lights, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]