e o'clock we turned a point, and came upon a long,
sandy beach, forming a bay, at the head of which was a small collection
of huts, composing the rancho of Tancar. The entrance was difficult,
being hemmed in by sunken reefs and rocks. Two women were standing in
the doorway of one of the huts, except the old fisherman the only
persons we had seen along this desolate coast.

It was this point which we expected to reach by land direct from
Chemax. The reader will see the circuit it has cost us to make it, but
the first glance satisfied us of our good fortune in not going to it
direct, for we saw the frame of the sloop we had heard of still on the
stocks, which probably is not yet finished. We should not have been
able to get a canoa, and should have been obliged to return by the same
road. The moment the stone was thrown out we were in the water, wading
ashore. The sun was intensely hot, and the sand burning. In front of
the principal hut, beside the sloop, was a thatched arbour to protect
the carpenter who occasionally worked upon it. Near by was a ruined
hut, which we had cleared out, and for the third time took up our abode
in a habitation erected by Molas. On leaving the island of Cozumel it
was only to this desolate point on the coast that he dared venture. It
was a situation that again suited his proscribed life, and having no
fear of pursuit from the interior, his energy and industry did not
desert him. He again cultivated his milpa, and again laid the keel of a
sloop, being the same which we then saw unfinished. But, finding
himself growing old, in a measure forgotten and afflicted by illness,
he ventured to appear in the village of Chemax, on returning from
which, as before mentioned, with a single Indian, while yet eight
leagues from Tancar he died in the road; as our informant expressed it,
he died like a dog, without aid either human or divine. We had heard so
much of Molas, of his long succession of calamities, and of the heavy
retribution that had been poured upon his aged head, and we had seen so
much of his unbroken energy, that, in spite of the violence and crimes
imputed to him, our sympathies were excited; and having heard afterward
from other sources the opinion expressed strongly, that during these
long years of proscription he was the victim of an iniquitous and
unrelenting persecution, I draw a veil over his history. It was but a
year since he died, and his two sons were in possession of the rancho,