IT was the nineteenth day after leaving Katchilcan’s village, and we had been toiling-steadily up a steep mountain side. Suddenly the forest ended and we halted in amazement. Before us the fiat mountain top had been cleared, and in the centre stood a low, massive building of a type I had never before seen. Filled with scientific interest, at the time giving no thought to the peculiar fact that the vegetation had been cleared away, I hurried forward, intent only on examining the strange temple. It was in remarkably good condition and, anxious to examine its interior, I stepped through the huge doorway flanked by carved stone columns representing conventionalized jaguars with serpents’ heads. A strange odor filled the interior. Sniffing suspiciously, trying to identify the smell, I stood motionless, waiting for my eyes to become accustomed to the semi-darkness. Then it came to me; it was the odor of burning flesh. What did it mean? Was it possible that?--yes, it must be--the temple must have been recently used. Memory of the clearing, of the condition of the building, swept over me. The temple was still in use; somewhere, very recently, a sacrifice had been made upon an altar within the building. Somewhere in the vicinity there must be Indians, who still worshipped their gods at the ancient temple. I glanced about. Opposite to where I stood was another doorway. I stepped forward towards it. The smell of burning flesh was stronger. I reached the doorway, peered within and halted in my tracks, staring agape at what I saw. On a raised dais was the gigantic image of the god Zotzilaha, grotesque, hideous, with his death’s head, his outspread bat-like wings, his misshapen body. Before him upon a sacrificial altar of polished jasper was the half-consumed body of a girl resting on the dull red embers of a fire. But I scarcely saw the god of the sacrifice, for prostrate before the image and the altar were dozens of naked Indians. To enter that sacred spot would be to meet with instant death. Only the fact that the savages’ attentions were riveted upon the god had prevented me from being seen. At any instant I might be discovered. Quickly, with fast beating heart, I stepped back. My elbow knocked against the wall, a bit of dislodged masonry rattled to the ground. Instantly every Indian turned in my direction; a savage shout came from their throats, and leaping to their feet, they rushed at me. Why I was not struck down, killed instantly and offered as a sacrifice to their outraged god, I shall never know. Perhaps they preferred to capture me alive, to torture me. Perhaps I was the first white man they had ever seen and they were in some awe or fear of me. Whatever the reason, I was not harmed. I was overpowered before I could resist, though to have attempted to resist would have been hopeless. I was bound, trussed up, and with triumphant shouts was borne into the room and thrown upon the floor before the altar with its gruesome sacrifice.