s lintel, indicated in the engraving
as three pieces of wood, but originally consisting of only two, that on
which the figure is carved being split through the middle by some
unequal pressure of the great superincumbent wall. The top of the outer
part was worm-eaten and decayed, probably from the trickling of water,
which, following some channel in the ornaments, touched only this part;
all the rest was sound and solid.

The subject is a human figure standing upon a serpent. The face was
scratched, worn, and obliterated, the headdress was a plume of
feathers, and the general character of the figure and ornaments was the
same with that of the figures found on the walls at Palenque. It was
the first subject we had discovered bearing such a striking resemblance
in details, and connecting so closely together the builders of these
distant cities.

But the great interest of this lintel was the carving. The beam covered
with hieroglyphics at Uxmal was faded and worn. This was still in
excellent preservation; the lines were clear and distinct; and the
cutting, under any test, and without any reference to the people by
whom it was executed, would be considered as indicating great skill and
proficiency in the art of carving on wood. The consciousness that the
only way to give a true idea of the character of this carving was the
production of the beams themselves, determined me to spare neither
labour nor expense to have them transported to this city; and when we
had finished our whole exploration, we were satisfied that these were
the most interesting specimens the country afforded. I had the
sculptured sides packed in dry grass and covered with hemp bagging, and
intended to pass them through the village without stopping, but the
Indians engaged for that purpose left them two days on the ground
exposed to heavy rain, and I was obliged to have them brought to the
convent, where the grass was taken out and dried. The first morning one
or two hundred Indians at work at the noria came up in a body to look
at them. It was several days before I could get them away, but, to my
great relief, they at length left the village on the shoulders of
Indians, and I brought them with me safely to this city. The reader
anticipates my conclusion, and if he have but a shade of sympathy with
the writer, he mourns over the melancholy fate that overtook them but a
short time after their arrival.

The accidental discovery of these sculptured beams an