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The Ancient Maya of the Belize Valley Half a Century of
Archaeological Research 1st Edition James F. Garber
Digital Instant Download
Author(s): James F. Garber
ISBN(s): 9780813026855, 0813026857
Edition: 1st
File Details: PDF, 8.77 MB
Year: 2003
Language: english
ARCHAEOLOGY/ANTHROPOLOGY/LATIN AMERICAN STUDIES
Garber
“As Maya scholars raise increasingly clear and better informed questions about the de-
velopment of Maya civilization over two and a half millennia, the very rich data that this
“An admirable contribution to the growing literature on Maya settlement research initiated
by Gordon Willey in the Belize Valley in the 1950s.”—Shirley B. Mock, University of Texas,
San Antonio
Half a Century of Archaeological Research
O ver half a century ago , the late Gordon Willey began his research in the Belize
Valley, and ten years later he published a synthesis of his data that is recognized
today as a classic study of ancient Maya settlement patterns. This volume looks at the
abundant research that has taken place in the region since the 1950s (and includes a ret-
rospective chapter from Willey that was submitted shortly before his death in April 2002).
The Ancient Maya of the Belize Valley presents in a single volume highlights of the extensive
data from the diverse sites in this part of Mesoamerica, one of the richest archaeological
areas in the Maya world. The collection provides a key to understanding the valley’s ancient
political and social organization by emphasizing the interconnectedness of the region’s
settlements.
James F. Garber is professor of anthropology and field school director at Texas State
University. He is the author of Archaeology at Cerros Belize, Central America, volume 2, The
Artifacts.
A volume in the series Maya Studies, edited by Diane Z. Chase and Arlen F. Chase Edited by James F. Garber
Front cover: Blackman Eddy artifact, Kanocha phase ocarina fragment.
ISBN 978-0-8130-3979-4
University Press of Florida UPF
www.upf.com
,!7IA8B3-adjhje!
The Ancient Maya of the Belize Valley
Maya Studies
The books in this series will focus on both the ancient and the contemporary Maya peoples of Belize,
Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador. The goal of the series is to provide an integrated
outlet for scholarly works dealing with Maya archaeology, epigraphy, ethnography, and history. The
series will particularly seek cutting-edge theoretical works, methodologically sound site-reports,
and tightly organized edited volumes with broad appeal.
The University Press of Florida is the scholarly publishing agency for the State University
System of Florida, comprising Florida A&M University, Florida Atlantic University, Florida
Gulf Coast University, Florida International University, Florida State University, New College
of Florida, University of Central Florida, University of Florida, University of North Florida,
University of South Florida, and University of West Florida.
List of Figures xi
List of Maps xv
List of Tables xvii
Foreword xix
Introduction
1. The Archaeology of the Belize Valley in Historical Perspective 1
Arlen F. Chase and James F. Garber
2. Retrospective 15
Gordon R. Willey
Conclusion
21. Diverse Voices: Toward an Understanding of Belize Valley
Archaeology 335
Diane Z. Chase
xii
Figures
xiii
Maps
xx
1
Half a century ago, Gordon Willey instituted the first formal settlement
pattern work in the Maya area. Trained by Julian Steward in cultural ecol-
ogy and already having successfully carried out similar work in the Viru
Valley of Peru (Willey 1953), he selected the Belize Valley as the locus of
investigation for demonstrating how settlement pattern archaeology could
be applied to the Maya area (chapter 2; Willey et al. 1965:15–16). His
focus on small unassuming housemounds rather than on a large spectacu-
lar Maya center revolutionized the field of Maya archaeology by causing
researchers to examine non-elite remains. This work also indirectly pro-
duced questions concerning the organizational scale of ancient Maya soci-
ety: chapters 17 and 18 (this volume) address these issues as they relate to
the function and variability of “minor ceremonial centers” as defined in
Willey’s initial study; chapters 9 and 11 (this volume) address these ques-
tions as they relate to “major ceremonial centers” as originally defined by
Willey.
The Belize Valley may be defined in terms of its waterways. It includes two
topographical subregions. The first zone is referred to here as the “upper
Belize Valley” and consists of the upland area characterized by hills and
steep slopes above (west of) the convergence of the Macal and Mopan
Rivers in western Belize. The second zone is referred to as the “central
Belize Valley” and consists primarily of broad alluvial flatlands and bor-
dering hills that occur along the western sector of the Belize River from the
Saturday Creek
Cocos Bank
Belmopan
El Pilar
Barton Camelote
Spanish Ramie
Lookout Warrie Head
R MB Ontario Village
RIVE Blackman
ZE Eddy
Yaxox LI Floral
BE Baking Park
BELIZE
Pot
GUATEMALA
Alta Vista
R M
IVE
MOPAN R A Esperanza
C
San Ignacio A
2
Cahal Pech L
Callar Cayo Y
Creek Buenavista Zopilote N
del Cayo R
Zubin I 0 1 2 3 4 5 km
V
Actuncan Nohoch Ek E
A. F. Chase and J. F. Garber
R
Xunantunich Chaa Creek Ancient Center
Pacbitun
ModernTown
Tipu
Chan Guacamayo
Melchor
Dos Chombitos
Las Ruinas
Map 1. The Belize Valley (drafted by James F. Garber). The upper Belize Valley, characterized by hilly terrain,
extends from the modern town of Melchor on the west to the conjunction of the Macal and Mopan Rivers to form
the Belize River on the east. The central Belize Valley, characterized by settlement on flatter alluvial terraces, starts
at the conjunction of the Mopan and Macal Rivers and extends to the marshy area just east of Cocos Bank. Note
that El Pilar and Pacbitun are technically not in the Belize Valley.
The Archaeology of the Belize Valley
juncture of the Macal and Mopan to an area south of the modern capital of
Belmopan, where the river begins its descent into the low-lying marshy
swamps and savanna that stretch another 30 km to the Caribbean Sea
(map 1). In terms of landmarks on the river, the Belize Valley extends from
the modern town of Benque Viejo del Carmen in western Belize to the
eastern ruins at Cocos Bank.
Ancient Maya settlement in central-western Belize was conditioned by
the Belize River and its surrounding terrain. The lowest part of the Belize
River (east of Cocos Bank and Saturday Creek) runs through savanna and
swamp that were not conducive to either large or small Maya settlements.
Agriculture was not only difficult in the coastal plain immediately adjacent
to the Caribbean, but also some 30 km inland, where poor soil conditions
still prevailed. Only the alluvial soils along rivers that flooded and carried
upland soils into these areas could readily support settlement. To some
extent, these ecological conditions determined one of the areas where the
ancient Maya would settle—in the flatter, sometimes flooded, areas along
rivers where rich alluvial soils had been deposited. Thus, the densest an-
cient Maya settlement occurs along the banks of the Belize River above the
point where it spills into the broad savanna plain.
During the rainy season from May through December, the level of water
in the rivers associated with the Belize Valley occasionally rise as much as
12 m, causing severe flooding and depositing alluvium on the river ter-
races. Willey and colleagues (1965:23) reported that “the alluvium of the
upper terraces seems to be at least 10 m. deep.” Limestone foothills domi-
nate the western part of the Belize River Valley, essentially ending where
the Macal and Mopan join to form the Belize River. The limestone foothills
of the Maya Mountains also intermittently form the southern boundary of
the Belize River between Floral Park and Cocos Bank. However, the zone
between the modern town of San Ignacio and Floral Park is characterized
by broad alluvial terraces on both sides of the river.
Probably because of the location of the modern road and the effect
that this road has had on modern settlement, the majority of the sites
known from the Belize Valley lie to the south of the Belize River (map 1).
Apart from the work done by Willey et al. (1965) at Barton Ramie and
the transect surveys carried out by Ford (1990) in the western part of the
valley north of the Belize and Mopan Rivers, there has been little ar-
chaeological reconnaissance on the northern side of the river. Undoubt-
edly, other sites and settlements will be found there in the future.
Maritime trade was always of importance to the ancient Maya (McKillop
and Healy 1989). Along with the Hondo River (D. Chase and A. Chase
3
A. F. Chase and J. F. Garber
1989) and New River (Garber 1989), the Belize River is one of the natural
transportation and communication routes between the Caribbean Sea and
the Petén heartland of Guatemala. The portage of long-distance trade
goods would have been greatly facilitiated by the use of the Belize River.
Given its position, the Belize Valley would have served as the last gate-
way for the transport of goods into the Maya interior. The archaeological
record correspondingly exhibits exotics from throughout the Maya area—
much of it material that had been transported up or down the Belize River
(Jackson and McKillop 1989). At the other end of the Belize River, Mojo
Cay served as a trade entrepôt (chapter 16).
While river traffic is possible up both the Macal and Mopan Rivers in
the upper Belize Valley, rapids are encountered in each, making travel
more difficult. South of the modern town of San Ignacio, the Macal River
is characterized by steep sides with relatively little in the way of flat alluvial
areas. Thus, the sites of Cahal Pech and Cayo Y effectively form the gate-
way community for the eastern extent of the Macal River throughout
most of the Belize Valley’s history (being replaced by Negroman-Tipu
[Graham et al. 1985] in the Postclassic and Colonial eras). Interestingly,
the jump-off station for travel to points in the interior remained on the
Macal River throughout the Historic period with the town of San Ignacio,
situated at the juncture of the uplands and plain, serving until relatively
recently as the off-loading point for most travelers coming by boat (includ-
ing archaeological projects; see pictures in Black 1990).
The Mopan River, characterized by rapids but also by a more direct
interior route, appears to have had more settlement along its banks than
did the Macal, probably because the terrain was gentler. This settlement,
however, is not as dense as that documented at Barton Ramie, Baking
Pot, or Spanish Lookout, all located along the Belize River in the central
Belize Valley. Whereas Cahal Pech was the gateway community for the
Macal River, a cluster of three sites seems to have served this purpose on
the Mopan River—Actuncan in the Preclassic, Buenavista del Cayo in
the Classic, and Xunantunich in the Terminal Classic. Ball and Taschek
(chapter 9) explore the shifting political dynamics of this portion of the
valley.
There are important compositional differences between the sites on the
Belize River in the central Belize Valley and those above the confluence of
the Macal and Mopan in the upper Belize Valley. Most of the settlement in
the central Belize Valley is clustered on the sides of the Belize River and
consists of many small mounds widely distributed over the landscape,
much like Barton Ramie and Spanish Lookout. The sites at the Belize head-
4
The Archaeology of the Belize Valley
waters, on or between the Macal and Mopan Rivers in the upper Belize
Valley, appear to be more concentrated in their settlement and to consis-
tently exhibit larger scale architecture; this phenomenon is addressed by
Driver and Garber (chapter 18). Cahal Pech (chapters 7 and 8), Xunan-
tunich (chapters 9 and 11), Buenavista del Cayo (chapter 10), and even El
Pilar (chapter 15), all form fairly compact sites with clear focal centers. In
the central Belize Valley, Baking Pot (chapter 5) mimics this focus, but its
settlement and its habitation mounds are relatively numerous and more
widely dispersed (consistent with other ancient occupation on the flatland
alluvial terraces).
Although Willey and his colleagues (1955, 1965; Willey and Bullard
1956) excavated at several sites (Barton Ramie, Spanish Lookout, Bak-
ing Pot, Melhado) in the Belize Valley between 1954 and 1956, the bulk
of their archaeological work focused on the site of Barton Ramie, where
65 out of 262 mounds were investigated, 13 of them intensively. Barton
Ramie was seen as being typical of the settlement found in the Belize
Valley (Willey et al. 1965:561); “so dense are these mounds that they
form a ribbon strip of virtually continuous settlement for many kilome-
ters along the alluvial flats and higher banks of the stream.” Few ar-
chaeological remains were located by Willey’s project at any distance
from the river; most (like the site of Floral Park) were no more than 1 km
distant.
Barton Ramie (fig. 1.1) was a fairly unassuming site best characterized
as a settlement zone located on the floodplain of the Belize River approxi-
mately 5 miles from the Belizean district capital of San Ignacio. Unlike
other sites that had been investigated before 1950 by the Carnegie Institu-
tion of Washington and the University of Pennsylvania, Barton Ramie
was not characterized by large temple-pyramids, carved stone monuments,
or standing stone architecture. Instead, the site consisted primarily of
raised earthen mounds that upon excavation revealed stone facings and
other architectural remains. Also revealed in these tumuli was a rather
lengthy sequence of occupation. Initially, at least, these investigations were
fit into a preexisting paradigm that dictated an uncomplicated village de-
velopment with eventual abandonment of the site and valley at the time of
the Maya collapse (Willey 1956a; Willey et al. 1955). More recent research
has shown both greater complexity and time depth to this initial occupa-
tion (chapters 3 and 7).
5
A. F. Chase and J. F. Garber
d
ed ppe
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its o its
Lim Lim
IP ”
TR
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“ AI TH “ ISLAND”
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-N
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“ NORTHWEST” IDD “ TEXAS”
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LE E
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shown in solid
Excavated
Mound or tested
group namesmounds
in
shown in solid
Moundquotes
group names in
“ OX - BOW” quotes
0 100 200200300
0 100 300 400 500
400 500
LOW RIVER
TERRACES meters
meters
Fig. 1.1. Plan of Barton Ramie showing the structures excavated by Willey (drafted by
James F. Garber after Willey et al. 1965:277).
Rather than fitting neatly with what was already known about the
Maya elsewhere, however, the Barton Ramie ceramic sequence was found
to be related to, but still peripheral to, the developments in the central
Petén (Gifford 1976). The ceramics were not simply copies of those al-
ready known from Uaxactun (Smith 1955) or San Jose (Thompson 1939).
The temporal faceting of these materials was also different from that as-
signed to central Petén ceramics (Gifford 1976).
Regional Chronology
Archaeological research undertaken in the Belize Valley in the half century
since Willey et al.’s (1965) original work at Barton Ramie has served to
confirm and broaden the cultural historical sequence that he initially es-
tablished—with only slight changes. The original ceramic sequence de-
fined by Gifford (1976:23) spanned “at even a conservative estimate, per-
haps two thousand years.” With the potential exception of its earliest and
latest archaeological remains, the Belize Valley cultural sequence accords
6
The Archaeology of the Belize Valley
7
A. F. Chase and J. F. Garber
During the Late Classic period, the Belize Valley ceramics became in-
creasingly regionalized, focusing on types and forms generally not found in
surrounding regions. A better understanding of the Late Classic ceramic
relationships for the Belize Valley probably would be gained through clari-
fication of the archaeological picture at Naranjo, Guatemala, and a defini-
tion of that site’s ceramic sequence. Terminal Classic ceramics show wide-
spread variability at the sites in the valley and could not be faceted in the
original Barton Ramie sample (Gifford 1976:226). Both Xunantunich (in
terms of architecture) and Buenavista del Cayo (in terms of ceramics) ex-
hibit ties to the northern lowlands, raising questions about the possible
presence of “foreign” populations.
While most of the upper Belize Valley sites were largely abandoned after
the Terminal Classic (e.g., Xunantunich; LeCount et al. 2002), the exten-
sive riverine settlement in the central Belize Valley is almost uniformly
characterized by Postclassic peoples who used ceramics that are similar to
those found around the many lakes in the central Petén of Guatemala. This
could be interpreted as indicating that the Belize Valley was integrated into
broader sociopolitical and economic systems throughout the Postclassic
era. Colonial period remains, including a Spanish visita church and ceram-
ics that are very similar to the Postclassic remains in the central Belize
Valley, have been extensively documented from the upper Belize Valley site
of Negroman-Tipu (Graham et al. 1985). When viewed in conjunction
with the modern town of San Ignacio, the archaeological data from the
Belize Valley provide evidence of almost 3,000 years of continuous human
settlement.
Like its early remains, the latest ceramics from Barton Ramie were
problematic. Initially, the Postclassic occupation of Barton Ramie was
considered to be minimal. In an early synthesis of the Barton Ramie data,
Willey (1956a:781) noted that “not a single one of the numerous test
excavations in the Belize Valley has brought to light ceramic or other
evidence that would demonstrate a Postclassic period occupation of any
of the village house mounds.” Subsequent ceramic analysis actually re-
vealed it to be widespread, occurring in 62 of the 65 mounds investigated
(Gifford 1976:288; Willey et al. 1965). The relatively abundant Post-
classic artifactual material and construction levels were not recognized
during the fieldwork (possibly because no interments with recognizable
Postclassic pottery were recovered) but instead were recognized during the
subsequent ceramic analysis. Thus, the contextual linkages of this material
are not secure and even the exact relationships among the Barton Ramie
Postclassic ceramics are still largely unresolved (Bullard 1973; Cecil 2001;
8
The Archaeology of the Belize Valley
The excavations at Barton Ramie did not actually define the entirety of
that site’s settlement patterns. What they did define was the form and lon-
gevity of Maya structures and groups that were interpreted as being com-
mon households and living areas. This alone was a major advancement
for Maya archaeology (see Taylor 1948). Thus, the value of Willey’s work
at Barton Ramie lay in its emphasis on Maya remains that were consid-
ered to be typical households of the lower stratum of Maya society. These
were not elite remains. This was a level of people about whom little was
known. Only a few earlier researchers had bothered to even investigate
this class of remains (see chapter 2). Thompson (1931) had excavated a
series of test excavations within residential groups located in the Moun-
tain Cow area of the Vaca Plateau; he (1939) had also investigated larger
palacelike structures that were clearly residential at San Jose. Limited
samples of housemounds also had been intentionally excavated at Uaxac-
tun (Wauchope 1934), but these had been located in fairly close proxim-
ity to the large central architecture of that site (Ricketson and Ricketson
1937; Smith 1950).
The excavations at Barton Ramie, however, did not address issues of
how these structures and groups physically articulated with more elite
remains—even those at Barton Ramie itself, as Coe and Haviland (1966)
pointed out. This type of research was later attempted with the settlement
work undertaken at Tikal, Guatemala (Puleston 1983). Barton Ramie was
assumed to have been a small “rural” village within “a large but well-
integrated network of theocratic stations and substations” that included
three identified “ceremonial sites of middling size (Banana Bank, Bank-
ing Pot, Cahal Pech . . . )” and “one impressive ceremonial center at Xu-
nantunich” (Willey 1956a:778)—“the nearest ceremonial or organiza-
tional center of consequence . . . some 20 kilometers upriver to the west”
(Willey 1976:vii). But how this articulation actually worked was not speci-
9
A. F. Chase and J. F. Garber
fied and still engenders considerable debate (see chapters 9, 11, 17, 18,
and 20).
The concentration of settlement at Barton Ramie is substantial (Ford
1990; Fry 1990) and much denser than settlement around the larger archi-
tectural concentrations of Cahal Pech or Xunantunich in the upper Belize
Valley (but not as dense as ridgetop settlement outside of the valley proper
[chapter 15]). The comparative implications for this density were never
fully explored by Willey or others. Was Barton Ramie independent? Was it
a cluster of nonrelated households? Was it a tightly organized group of
people? Did it have different societal levels and an elite stratum? How
were these people organized socially, politically, and economically? When
Willey and his colleagues excavated Barton Ramie, Maya archaeology
was not ready to answer these questions. Rather, the collected data were
important in establishing the existence and dating of Maya residential
groups. However, Willey’s work also presaged many other questions that
continue to plague Maya researchers. For example, exotic remains were
found in association with the simple constructions at Barton Ramie and
such remains were fairly widely distributed (Willey et al. 1965). Willey
(1956a:778–779) himself contemplated what this meant for interpreta-
tions of how complex ancient Maya society was and for how it was orga-
nized, but could come to no firm conclusions regarding site or regional
organization. Since Willey’s study, the site of Blackman Eddy (chapter 4),
located less than 3 km from Barton Ramie, has been discovered and inves-
tigated, providing new clues to the integration of the Barton Ramie settle-
ment into the valley system.
All of the projects that have worked in or near the Belize Valley have
followed Willey’s tradition of emphasizing the study of ancient settle-
ment. This is specifically seen in research undertaken at Xunantunich,
Cahal Pech, Baking Pot, Buenavista del Cayo, and Valley of Peace. Where
the more modern projects have diverged from Willey has been on their
almost universal focus on large architectural concentrations. The majority
of recognizable architectural concentrations or “site centers” on the south
side of the valley have been investigated. Yet with the exception of the
Xunantunich Project (Ashmore 1998) and the work done in the western
part of the valley (Ford 1990; Fedick 1994), most of the archaeological
projects have not attempted to systematically record and test settlements
between centers or to block-map broad areas as Willey et al. (1965) did at
Barton Ramie and Spanish Lookout (see also Caracol; A. Chase and D.
Chase 2001a).
10
The Archaeology of the Belize Valley
11
A. F. Chase and J. F. Garber
12
The Archaeology of the Belize Valley
palace compounds (Ball 1993). Settlement has also been examined north
of the Mopan River (Fedick 1994; Ford and Fedick 1992) with most re-
search focusing on the site of El Pilar (chapter 15; Ford 1990:chap. 15)
just outside the Belize Valley proper. In the valley itself more work has
been undertaken at Baking Pot (Awe, personal communication, 2002;
Moore 1997), and the site of Blackman Eddy has also been a locus of
major research (chapters 3 and 4; Garber et al. 1998). Investigation im-
mediately south of the valley has focused on the sites of Ponces (Morris,
personal communication) and Pacbitun (chapters 13 and 14; Healy 1992,
1999; Healy and Awe 1996). To the east, salvage work has been under-
taken in the Valley of Peace (chapter 6; Awe and Topsey 1984; Morris
1984). Taken together, this research permits a better understanding of
regional development and spatial relationships in the Belize Valley that
both complements and supplements that gathered for Barton Ramie by
Willey and his colleagues (1965) some 50 years ago.
Summary
Fifty years of research have expanded our knowledge about the archaeol-
ogy of the Belize Valley. Based on the continued excavation of unassum-
ing housemounds and smaller sites in the valley, we know much more
archaeologically about this part of the Maya world than we do about
most other regions. The Belize Valley exhibits a continuous occupation
history from the dawn of Maya civilization to the present. Its riverbanks
are lined with almost solid ancient settlement. The larger nodes of settle-
ment that have been identified in the valley display a uniformity in their
distribution that seems to be consistent with central place theory; we
have no answer for exactly why this is. In spite of all the data that have
been collected and all the sites and transects that have been mapped, the
ancient organizational systems and internal and external relationships
that must have existed in the Belize Valley are still a matter of debate. To
some extent the debate is due to the use of conflicting models in an at-
tempt to answer broad anthropological questions. And, to some extent
there is simply healthy disagreement over the interpretation of the extant
archaeological data. In spite of the disagreements, the archaeological data
that have been gathered as a result of 50 years of research in the Belize
Valley are key to understanding Maya social and political organization
both here and elsewhere. When Willey undertook his initial settlement
research at Barton Ramie so long ago, he could not have foreseen that he
was laying the groundwork for such long-term regional archaeology.
13
A. F. Chase and J. F. Garber
Acknowledgments
14
Retrospective
Retrospective
Gordon R. Willey
The Belize Valley and its archaeology are associated in my mind with my
beginnings in Maya archaeology. As it happened, these beginnings did not
come about until I was well into my career. I had spent some years in the
archaeology of the Southeastern United States; I had gone to Peru for two
long field seasons, the earlier of which resulted in my doctoral dissertation
and, subsequently, had carried out two expeditions in Panama. The second
of these Panamanian adventures had been run out of my base at Harvard
University, where, since 1950, I had been Bowditch Professor of Mexican
and Central American Archaeology. I was set to continue my Central Amer-
ican investigations by digging my way northward in Panama and on into
Costa Rica when my distinguished predecessor at Harvard, Alfred M.
Tozzer, told me that I should stop fooling around down in “no man’s land”
and work in the “Maya Area,” which was what Mr. Bowditch really had in
mind when he bestowed his professorship on Harvard (see Willey 1988). I
took his advice on this, as I usually did on other matters, and I am glad that
I did. Although defining archaeological phases and working out culture
sequences in Panama and Costa Rica would have been useful, lowland
Maya archaeology had gone beyond the basics of culture history and pre-
sented more interesting challenges to me.
I was, though, admittedly awed by these Maya challenges. To begin
with, there was a vast literature on the ancient Maya. While I could,
through reading, assimilate much of the more routine “dirt” archaeo-
logical information such as ceramics, artifacts, and architecture—I would
need more time than I had to master the more arcane aspects of the old
Maya—such as their hieroglyphics, calendrics, art, and iconography. Given
15
G. R. Willey
16
Retrospective
17
G. R. Willey
the governor and other officials of the colony, including Hamilton Ander-
son, the archaeological commissioner, we went on up to the town of El
Cayo, the capital of the colony’s Western District and located only a dozen
kilometers or so from the border of the Guatemalan Petén. We hired a car
to drive from Belize City to El Cayo, a relatively easy three-hour journey
with this mode of transportation. In so doing, we had it easy compared to
the way the trip was made in earlier years when archaeologists came into
the Petén bush via British Honduras. Back then, after a ship’s landing in
Belize City, one transferred yourself and your gear, plus the mountain of
food supplies you purchased there in the city, to a small river steamer.
This mode of transportation went back to Tozzer’s and Morley’s time, and
Harry Pollock, who was with Ricketson and other Carnegie archaeolo-
gists at Uaxactun, told me about it. There were sleeping accommoda-
tions of a sort on the steamer, although some, and Harry remembered the
late George Vaillant in this select group, who would sit up all night and
play poker. This kind of journey, although nonstop, took three days and
three nights. On arrival in El Cayo, they were then met by an efficient
agent, a gentleman of Chinese-Maya parentage by the name of Leocandio
E. Hopun. Hopun organized the mule trains there, and he would have
these in readiness for his archaeological patrons. After a night’s sleep in El
Cayo, you were ready to go next morning, with personnel and bundles of
supplies mounted on mules, for what then was to be another three-day
journey, this time with night camps along the way, to Uaxactun.
This same Hopun, who still lived in El Cayo and was still dedicating his
services to archaeology, met us when we arrived there after our relatively
brief auto journey. He had been employed by Satterthwaite in previous
seasons, and he agreed to help our Harvard party if we decided to work in
the Belize Valley. El Cayo then having no hotel, Hopun had arranged for
the four of us to sleep in the Church of England Rectory, a then uninhab-
ited building there in the town. After a night in these quarters, we break-
fasted in a nearby restaurant that had been recommended to us by Hopun.
While so doing, a member of the Black Colonial Constabulary appeared at
an open window of the dining room, calling a fulsome welcome to Linton
Satterthwaite. After going over to the window for an amiable exchange
with this representative of the law, Linton returned to the table with the
remark “Swell fellow! It is always good to keep in with these boys, it’s
something for you to remember if you’re going to work around here.”
Ten minutes or so passed as we worked our way through the eggs,
frijoles refritos, and tortillas. Then, once more, Satterthwaite’s policemen
friend came to the window. “Doctor,” he said, addressing Satterthwaite, as
18
Retrospective
he pulled a small slip of paper from his shirt pocket, “this is a parking
violation ticket from last year when you left your Jeep in an unauthorized
zone here in El Cayo. It’s a two dollar fine, Doctor. You can take it over to
the Police Station to pay it, but I thought it would be more convenient for
you just to pay me.”
I mused then upon El Cayo’s parking and traffic problems. In the short
time we had been there, I didn’t think I had seen more than one other
vehicle in addition to our rented one, at least in what might be called “the
downtown business district.” Nevertheless, it was a lesson to me that
parking violations would not be tolerated if we should decide to base
ourselves here in the capital of the Western District.
Breakfast over, we drove out of town, up the hill for a short distance to
Cahal Pech. This small Maya ceremonial center, aptly named in that lan-
guage as “the place of the tick,” was on the hilltop, which overlooked El
Cayo and the Macal branch of the Belize River. As I recall, it numbered
two or three plazas, had a sizable pyramid, and a single plain stela. Satter-
thwaite had done some digging there in the previous season, but as will be
revealed by the chapters in this volume, his knowledge of the place was still
superficial. It appeared to him to be a minor center, presumably drawing
its support from a sustaining area of residences stretching for a few kilome-
ters along the river and quite probably being subordinate to the much
larger center of Benque Viejo (now known as Xunantunich and discussed
elsewhere in this volume) located several kilometers to the west. In any
event, Cahal Pech appeared to Satterthwaite to be a suitable place from
which to begin a settlement pattern survey.
Two workmen, armed with machetes and dispatched there by Hopun,
awaited us at the site. Satterthwaite outlined his plan of action. We would
begin on the lower slopes of the Cahal Pech hill and cut a breccia, or path,
through the bush in an easterly direction from the center, down toward the
river, which was about a kilometer away. In this way we would begin to get
some idea of how densely or sparsely residential mounds were grouped
around a center and, eventually, how far out they extended. Did they, for
example, continue right along, more or less evenly distributed until we
came to another ceremonial center? So we set to our task. It was about
8:00 in the morning, and the fog had not yet burned off when we began.
Satterthwaite had not only arranged through Hopun for the workmen but
had borrowed machetes for the four of us. The use of the machete, Linton
advised, was absolutely essential for anyone aspiring to be a Maya archae-
ologist, and this was especially so in my case given my “settlement pat-
tern” ambitions. How else would I find all the little mounds, and so com-
19
G. R. Willey
20
Retrospective
21
G. R. Willey
following season when we began our surveys and excavations of the Bar-
ton Ramie “little mounds.” These were, indeed, impressive in their num-
bers. The agricultural clearing was about 2 km2 in extent, and the mounds
were seen everywhere. The ramie plants were then, in their stunted con-
dition, only about knee high, disastrous commercially, but ideal for ar-
chaeological survey. The mounds averaged about 2 m in height and 20 to
30 m in diameter. They were located, on the average, perhaps 50 to 60 m
apart. Eventually, we were to map and count 264 of them in the cleared
agricultural area. There were a few larger ones, and one unit, in particular,
consisted of a little plaza group that included a small pyramid mound
about 12 m high. This unit, thus, had the appearance of a ceremonial
center of a very minor sort but one much smaller than, say, Cahal Pech.
After this view of Barton Ramie, we spent the rest of the week looking
at sites in the Belize Valley. We saw Xunantunich, then called Benque
Viejo, where Thompson (1940) had once done some digging and where,
later, Anderson had carried out some excavation-restoration work. We
also looked at a number of other sites in the region, including Baking Pot,
where Ricketson (1929) had dug before going into Uaxactun. Baking Pot
was only about 6 km upriver, to the west of Barton Ramie. It had a larger
ceremonial center than the little one at Barton Ramie and was also sur-
rounded by numerous small, residential-type mounds, although the Bak-
ing Pot clearing was not as large as the one at Barton Ramie.
Before leaving El Cayo, I had an argument with Satterthwaite about my
plans for subsequent seasons. I had made up my mind, I said, that I would
begin with mapping and excavations at Barton Ramie. Linton thought this
was a grave mistake, a setting off down the wrong path in settlement pat-
tern research. If I did that, he warned, I’d be beginning “in the middle of
nowhere.” The Barton Ramie tiny ceremonial unit was too small to even
qualify as a “minor center.” In his opinion, I should begin with some place
like Cahal Pech and work out radially from there. In this way, I could get
some idea of the size and nature of the “sustaining area” for a reasonably
well-defined center. I countered by saying that Maya settlement pattern
studies were so little developed that we didn’t know where we were any-
way. Why not begin with Barton Ramie and take advantage of the huge
clearing? Satterthwaite responded that I was “afraid of the bush,” that I
didn’t like to cut breccias. I’m afraid I couldn’t deny that I would like to
bypass as much machete work as possible. Later, I talked the matter over
with Bill Bullard. After all, he would be a key figure in our project. What
did he think? He agreed that Satterthwaite had a logical point that concep-
tually, anyway, we had to work and think “from center outward.” At the
22
Retrospective
same time, he agreed with me that we couldn’t afford to pass up the prac-
tical advantages of the Barton Ramie clearing.
So we began our intensive instrument surveys and excavations at Bar-
ton Ramie in the early winter of 1954, and we continued there, as well as
at nearby Spanish Lookout and Baking Pot, through the winter of 1956. In
addition to Bullard and myself, we had three other graduate student super-
visors over the three seasons so we were able to dig several of the Barton
Ramie residential mounds in detail. In addition, we test-pitted almost 60
others. Bullard, I might add here, was particularly effective a this work. He
had a sense for structures and the stratigraphic complexities of structures
plus refuse that enabled him to get a maximum amount of information
from the clay, plaster, and rough stone levels of the little mounds. It is of
interest to note that of the mounds excavated or test-pit sampled, all had
been occupied in the Late Classic period. Significant numbers of these also
had Early Classic and Late Preclassic levels, and in a few cases evidence of
Middle Preclassic construction levels and refuse was found. In the chapters
of this volume, the reader will find substantiations of this domestic mound
sequencing at other sites in the valley.
In addition to our Barton Ramie and nearby digging, we also traveled
around on weekends and in this way began to get some overall picture of
the archaeology of the valley, with its several ceremonial centers, their
geographical spacing and their relationships to small, residential mounds.
We wondered about Maya occupation of other types of terrain, especially
the hills lying back from the river bottoms. Had these been occupied by the
ancient Maya? We didn’t have time to explore these to any extent, but it
seemed reasonable to assume that the Maya also had occupied them. Still,
it was our opinion—or perhaps I should qualify this and say my opinion
for I think Bullard may have had his doubts—that the immediate valley
floor was where most of the residential mounds, as well as the ceremonial
centers, were to be found. In writing about this at the time, however, I did
add a little cautionary note, which is amusing in retrospect. In the conclud-
ing section of the Willey et al. (1965) monograph, I said, “This probably
should not be taken to mean that the hills and hillsides were unsuited to
residence for if we had extended our survey several kilometers north or
south of the Belize Valley we might have come upon clusters of house
mounds in hill terrain” (591).
Now, in the light of Anabel Ford’s surveys of those uplands lying back
of the river flats (chapter 15), we do, indeed, know that we would have
come upon “clusters of house mounds” if we had moved farther into the
hills. For while the immediate foothills at the edges of the valley bottom in
23
G. R. Willey
the vicinity of Barton Ramie were not heavily occupied, the higher ridge-
lands behind these foothills have turned out to be thick with residential
mounds. In addition to these, Ford also has discovered an important cer-
emonial center, El Pilar, which lies in the ridgelands 10 km north of the
river. El Pilar is a site that compares favorably in monumental architectural
size with centers nearer the river, such as Xunantunich, Buenavista, and
Baking Pot. It is also surrounded by a dense settlement of residential units.
In brief, as the chapters in this volume make abundantly clear, there is a
universe of Maya settlement in the Belize Valley of which we were unaware
when my colleagues and I began our work there in the 1950s. The reader
will find this volume an exciting record of work in progress. As will be
seen, none of the authors feels that he or she has answered all of the ques-
tions with which they began their respective researches. Rather, they all
point to new questions and problems that lie ahead. Nevertheless, I am
amazed and gratified by the ground that has been gained. I shall not at-
tempt to summarize it. Diane Chase does that very ably in the concluding
chapter of the book. I will only point, again, to the Belize Valley’s impor-
tance as a sector of the Maya lowlands. It is fully a part of that story of the
Maya rise from Preclassic beginnings, through Classic achievement, into
the Postclassic decline that we know, in general, from other parts of the
area; and yet, as these chapters indicate, it displays peculiarities unique to
the region. James Garber, the editor of the volume, as well as a significant
contributor to Belize Valley archaeology, is to be commended for focusing
our attention upon this very important portion of the Maya past.
24
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
us zephyr alone, while the other four little breezes set down and
made smart remarks. There was considerable feeling aroused during
this lesson.
Five little zephyrs took her back to the hotel, and then one little
zephyr went home and packed up his burro. That one little zephyr
had a vision of a big blow coming and wanted to get out of the road.
Magpie tried to plead with us, but me and the mule remained firm.
Magpie’s voice was full of tears, but I shook my head, packed my
jassack and went to live a while with “Dirty Shirt” Jones, who lives
several miles away from the center of disturbance.
After all danger from drought is a long time past, Magpie points
out the duty of a real honest-to-grandma citizen. He orates openly
that the future of a city is only as broad as the inhabitants will allow.
He asks Dirty Shirt if his views are narrow.
“Wide as the ocean, and beggin’ to expand,” says Dirty.
“I’m the widest human bein’ yuh ever seen, Magpie. Dog-gone me
if I ain’t wider than anythin’ anybody ever seen. How about you, Ike?”
“I’ve got you skinned about four ways from the jack,” says I, and
somehow I believed it.
Magpie got in between us and took Dirty’s gun away from him.
“Killin’ ain’t expansion,” explains Magpie. “Piperock has
entertained too many times in the interests of the undertaker.
Piperock is so far behind the times that the seventeenth generation
of Montana’s human race has started and finished and we’re still
runnin’ the wrong way of the track.”
“Are we that far behind the rest of the world?” asks Dirty, tearful-
like.
“Further,” assures Magpie.
“Then let’s be up and doin’,” urges Dirty. “My ⸺, I never realized
that we was runnin’ in the dust. How does we start in to speed up the
old buggy?”
“I,” says Magpie, “I am the little jigger who is goin’ to lead Piperock
to th’ promised land. I am the pelican which is goin’ to make
Piperock a place of honor and glory and a social center. I has been
throwed down by the best citizens, you know it? Puttin’ their personal
feelin’s ahead of the best interests of the city, they has laid down
upon their labors, willin’ to let poor old Piperock slumber and waller
in the dust of decay; but the womin can see what it means to the city,
and they’re firm as rocks. I have got one of the best dances yuh ever
seen, gents.
“The ordinary poetry of motion is the weavin’s of a drunken
Siwash with a sprained ankle beside this here dance of mine. Miss
Harrison said it had anythin’ beat she ever seen.”
“Do yuh have music for this kind of dancin’?” asks Dirty.
“Well, kinda,” assures Magpie. “Frenchy Deschamps’ jew’s-harp
and Bill Thatcher on his wind-pipe. Bill bought it a short time ago.
Said that ever time he got a bull-fiddle busted it cost him ten dollars
for a new one; so he buys him a wind-pipe. If anybody shoots holes
in that thing he can patch it up.”
“That’s a new instrument on me,” says Dirty.
“That’s it,” says Magpie. “We’re so far behind the times, Dirty, that
we don’t recognize things that the rest of the world has been usin’ for
years.”
“My ⸺!” wails Dirty. “This is awful, Magpie. I’m grateful to yuh for
callin’ my attention to same. Ain’t you grateful, Ike?”
“Remains to be seen, as the feller said when he dug into a Injun
grave.”
“Ike’s grateful,” says Magpie. “Ike’s the gratefulest human bein’ on
earth.”
“That ain’t no ways true,” objects Dirty. “I’m the most gratefulest.”
I gets between Magpie and Dirty and makes ’em put up their
guns. Then we all took a last look at the inside bottom of the jug of
pain-killer.
Piperock appreciates art, there ain’t no question about that.
There’s fellers in town for this social event that ain’t been outside
their dug-outs since the big blow. Plain and fancy horse-thieves,
unsuccessful rustlers, hairy old shepherds that says “Ya-a-a-ss” and
“No-o-o-o,” just like a sheep, and others too numerous and or’nary to
mention.
Scenery Sims is setting in front of the Mint Hall with a sawed-off
shotgun on his lap, but he lets us in.
“How does she look, Scenery?” asks Magpie.
“Well,” squeaks Scenery, “everythin’ is all right so far, but them ex-
dancers is all back from Paradise. The women is all up there in the
hall now. Bill Thatcher is drunker’n seven hundred dollars, and
somebody has hit Frenchy in the mouth and kinda crippled his part
of the orchestra. Shouldn’t be s’prized if there’d be buzzards circlin’
Piperock in the mornin’.”
We went up into the hall, which is all fixed up for the social doings.
They’ve got the stage all curtained off and the room is full of chairs.
Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Tilton, Mrs. Gonyer, Mrs. Holt, Mrs. Wheeler and
Mrs. Steele are there. Magpie leads me and Dirty up to the stage
and in behind the curtain.
“My ⸺!” gasps Dirty. Sheep!”
“There’s four sheep tied up back there—all rams.”
“Sheep—yes,” agrees Magpie. “Them is what Miss Harrison calls
‘atmosphere.’”
“At⸺ Oh, my!” gasps Dirty. “What’s she mean, Magpie?”
“Accessories to my dance,” explains Magpie. “I’m the star
performer in ‘The Shepherd’s Awakening.’”
“What do we do?” asks Dirty.
“You fellers are fauns.”
“I’m the old buck deer—me,” declares Dirty. “You’re more
cockeyed than me, Magpie, if you can see me with four spindle legs
and a spotted hide.”
“A faun,” says Magpie, “a faun is a thing that looks like a human
bein’, but ain’t. It wears skin pants, but from there on up it’s plumb
nude. On its head is little horns, and it’s got a tail like a goat. It plays
a tune on a wooden whistle.”
Me and Dirty looks at each other, kinda foolish-like.
“I think it’s lovely of you two gentlemen to step in the breach,” says
Mrs. Tilton.
“Step in the—oh—!” croaks Dirty, wild-eyed. “This is terrible!”
“It will be a big thing for Piperock,” says Mrs. Gonyer, “and it will
teach the male sex that the women are the real progressives. Don’t
you think so, Mr. Harper?”
“There’s goin’ to be a lesson taught,” says I. “Experience is a great
teacher, but I ain’t never learned much. I thought I was wise, but I
finds that— Well, I ain’t never wore a tail like a goat and blowed on a
wooden whistle yet.”
“I hope that Testament’s skin pants will fit Mr. Harper,” says Mrs.
Tilton. “Mr. Harper is a little wider across than the Reverend.”
“Mr. Jones will be a little snug in Sam’s,” opines Mrs. Holt, “but he
don’t have to do only one little dance.”
Dirty’s bad eye rolls a complete circle and then stops with a dead
center on the tip of his nose. He grabs me by the arm and flops
down in a chair.
“Ike,” he gasps, “Ike, shoot me while there is yet time.”
“Shoot yourself—you’ve got a gun,” says I.
“I know it, bub—but I’m so nervous I’d miss.”
Dirty just sits there and sweats.
“Them sheep—has they been trained?” I asks.
“They’ve been here two days,” says Magpie. “They ought to be
used to the stage.”
If Mrs. Smith knew anything about dancing she forgot every step.
She trots out on the stage and starts something like Kid Carson used
to call “shadow-boxing.” Then she turns around about three times,
stubs her toe and falls down. Standing in a line across the stage is
the rest of them females, with their hands up in the air like they was
being held up by somebody with a gun.
“A-arabellie!” wails Wick. “My ⸺, woman, git out of sight!”
Mrs. Smith gets to her feet and yelps back at Wick:
“Git out of sight yourself—if you don’t like it! I’ll teach you to flirt
with a dancer. Start the music over again, Bill.”
“Em-m-m-i-lee!” shrieks Sam Holt. “Ain’tcha got no modesty? Go
put on your shoes and socks!”
Bill Thatcher starts squealing on his instrument again, and Mrs.
Smith starts doing some fancy steps.
Wow! Here comes Judge Steele, Art Wheeler, Pete Gonyer,
Testament Tilton, Wick Smith and Sam Holt, climbing right over the
top of folks.
“Git ba-a-a-ck!” squeaks Seenery, waving his shotgun. “Stop it!
Whoa, Blaze!”
“Look at the wild man!” howls somebody, and here comes Magpie
across the stage hopping high and handsome.
“Stop ’em, Scenery!” whoops Magpie. “Dog-gone ’em, they can’t
bust up my show!”
Man, I’ll tell all my grandchildren this tale. Them outraged
husbands came up on that stage, while Yaller Rock County yelled
itself hoarse and made bets on whether it would be an odd or even
number of deaths. Magpie hit Pete in the neck and Pete lit with one
leg on each side of Bill Thatcher’s head. Wick Smith got hold of his
wife and them two started a tug of war.
Me and old Sam Holt got to waltzing around and around, which
wasn’t a-tall pleasant, being as I’m barefooted and Sam ain’t. I seen
Mrs. Wheeler and Art locked in mortal combat, and just then I hears
Dirty Shirt Jones yelp—
“Heavy, heavy hangs over your head—”
I whirls just in time to see what’s coming, but I can’t escape. Dirty
Shirt has turned the atmosphere loose. Them four he-sheep—four
ungentlemanly woollies, with corkscrew horns, are buck-jumping
across that stage, seeking what they may hit. I swung around to
meet the attack, and I reckon the leading sheep hit him a dead
center, ’cause I felt the shock plumb to me.
Maybe it hit Sam a little low, because it knocked all four of our feet
off the floor, and the next in line picked us in the air and stood us on
our heads.
I seen Wick Smith, braced against the edge of the stage, trying to
pull his wife over the edge, the same of which is a invitation to a
sheep, and the old ram accepted right on the spot. Mrs. Smith
grunted audibly and shot into Wick’s arms. Scenery Sims starts to
skip across the stage, but a ram outsmarted him, and I seen Scenery
turn over gracefully in the air and shoot, regardless, with both barrels
of that sawed-off shotgun.
Them load of shot hived up in the chandelier, the same of which
cut off our visible supply of light.
I heard the crashing of glass, and I figures that the hallway is too
crowded for some of the audience. I lays still, being wise, until the
noise subsides, and the crowd has escaped. Then I moves slowly to
my hands and knees. I feels a hand feeling of my legs, and then a
hand taps gently on my horned cap.
“I—I thought,” whispers old Sam’s voice kinda quavering-like, “I—I
thought they was all old ones, but a sheep’s a sheep to me.”
Bam! Something landed on my head, and I seen more bright lights
than there is in a million dollars worth of skyrockets. Then things
kinda clear up, and I hears old Sam saying to himself:
“Well, I killed one of the ⸺ things. If I go carefully⸺”
I can dimly see old Sam sneaking for the front of the stage. I’m
mad. I got up and sneaked right after him. No man can mistake me
for a sheep and get away with it. I jumps for old Sam’s back, and just
then he seems to kinda drop away from me. I reckon he forgot about
the five-feet drop from the stage, and I know danged well I did. I
reckon I sort of lit on my head and shoulders on top of somebody.
There comes a squeak from Bill Thatcher’s instrument, and then all
is quiet.
I wriggled loose and starts to get up, but a strong hand grabs me
by the ankle, yanks me off my feet, and I hit my head on a chair. I
kinda remember being dragged down them stairs, and then I feels
my carcass being dragged over rough ground. It was a long, hard
trip, and I reckon I lost about all the skin on the upper half of my
body. Finally I bumps over a step, gets yanked inside on to a carpet,
and then I hears a voice very dimly—
“Sweetheart, I brought thee home.”
Then a light is lit, and I sees Mrs. Smith putting the chimney on a
lamp. Without turning she says—
“I reckon you’ll confine your love to me after this, eh?”
Then she turns and looks at me, setting there on the floor with my
back propped up against a chair. I looks around. Just inside the door,
sitting on the floor, is Wick. Mrs. Smith looks at me and then at him.
Then she wipes her lips and stares at Wick.
“Sweetheart, eh?” grunts Wick, getting to his feet. “Arabellie, ain’t
you got no shame? Dancin’ up there without nothing on to speak of,
and then you has the gall to bring your sweetheart home with yuh.”
“Did—did—didn’t I—bring you home, Wicksie?”
“You—know—danged—well—you—didn’t. I always knowed you
was kinda sweet on Ike Harper.”
“On that!” She actually yelped, and pointed her finger at me.
“Sweet on him?”
I gets to my feet, but my legs ain’t very strong. I says:
“Lemme a-alone. I don’t want no man’s wife’s love—especially
one what hauls me home by the ankle. When I git married I want a
clingin’ vine—not a pile driver.”
I never did have much sense. A feller in my condition ought to
keep his mouth shut and sneak away soft-like. I turns my head
toward the door, and just then the weight of the world hit me from
behind, and it was a lucky thing for that house that the door was
open.
I landed on my hands and knees in the yard, with all the wind
knocked out of my system. Wick has got some rose-bushes in his
yard. Like a animal wounded unto death, I reckon I tried to crawl
around on my hands and knees to find a spot to die in.
All to once I sees one of them ⸺ sheep. It’s only a short
distance from me. I know if I move it’s going to hit me sure as ⸺ so
I remains still. I’ll bet that me and the sheep never moved a muscle
for fifteen minutes.
Then all at once the sheep spoke.
“For ⸺’s sake, if you’re goin’ to butt—butt and have it over with!”
I got to my feet.
“Get up, Dirty Shirt Jones,” says I. “What kind of a way is that to
act?”
Dirty weaves to his feet and stumbles over to me.
“Ike, thank the Lord, we’re alive!”
“Don’t presume too much. Medical science says that a man can
live after losin’ a certain amount of skin, but I’m bettin’ I’ve passed
that certain limit. Let’s sneak home and save what life we’ve got left.”
We sneaked around the Mint Hall and Wick’s store, and at the
corner we stumbles into somebody.
“Who goes there?” asks Dirty.
“Go ⸺!” wails Magpie Simpkins. “Help me, will yuh? I wrastled
all the way down here with one of them ⸺ sheep and now I’m
afraid to let loose.”
“You and your ⸺ atmosphere!” groans Dirty.
“I’m settin’ on it,” wails Magpie, “I’ve got a kink in my neck. Will
yuh hold it down until I can get up?”
Just then a voice from under him starts singing very soft and low
—
“There’s a la-a-a-nd that is fairer than this⸺”
Magpie gets to his feet and takes a deep breath.
“Testament,” says he, “what made yuh blat like a sheep?”
But Testament’s mind is not dwelling on sheep—not the kind of
sheep that Magpie meant.
Then the three of us starts limping toward home.
“Mebbe,” says Magpie, kinda painful-like, “mebbe we progressed
too fast. Piperock don’t appreciate it, gents, but this night the old
town jumped ahead at least fifty years.”
“Jumpin’,” says Dirty, reflective-like, “Jumpin’ don’t hurt nobody,
but, holy hen-hawks, it sure does hurt to jump that far and light so
hard.”
We pilgrims along, everybody trying hard to make their legs track.
Finally Magpie says—
“Personally, I think that interpretive dancin’ has anythin’ skinned I
ever seen.”
“Me too,” says I, “and parts I never have seen.”
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also
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