The Chichen Itza of the olden times, filled with pilgrims from far and near, would scarcely be recognized in the place of to-day. The jungle has gradually crept its way into the very holy of holies. Columns have been overthrown, and some of the structures have been almost lost in a tangle of thorns and creepers. Even in the last half century the destruction and disintegration has been very noticeable. To reach the place it is necessary to ride about fifteen miles over a rough and wearisome road. All around lie buried in thick jungle ruins of palaces and other buildings. Pyramid-like structures seem to have been one of the favourite forms of building. The most imposing of these on this site rises sixty-eight feet above the plain, and each side is almost one hundred and seventy-five feet in length, the whole covering about an acre of ground. This structure is called the Castillo, although it was really a temple. It is made up of nine terraces of faced masonry, narrowing toward the top, each one elaborately panelled to relieve the monotony. On each side there is a broad stairway, with a flight of ninety steps, with stone balustrades, which are generally carved to represent reptiles. A stone building almost forty feet square crowns the summit. The northern façade must have been very striking before time and the destroying hand of man wrought their work. There were no doors on any of the buildings, and no traces of hinges have been found. At the western base of the pyramid is the walk that leads to the sacred well. It is believed that on the top of this pyramid the sacred rites of the priests of their faith were performed, and it is said that the sacrificial victims were led down these stairways, then along the causeway and finally cast into the sacred well. It is easy for the imagination to picture the scene in all its splendour of white-robed priests, smoking censors, and—saddest of all—the victims bedecked with garlands of flowers.