“who carved the stones” they must be paid for their work by lives and, added the prince, for many Katuns the people had not employed them to cut the stones as the toll of lives was too great, but had used painted stones instead. Indeed, he declared, at one time in the distant past, so many lives had been taken by those “who carved the stones” that the city had been nearly depopulated. At that time, he said, the people did not know why they sickened and died, but a wise priest, one Tutul Hunac, had made a great sacrifice to the god Hunabku, who had revealed the cause of the deaths to the priest. Here was a mystery. I had noticed that there were many monuments and buildings covered with painted or frescoed designs, that all the sculptures appeared very ancient, and I had wondered about it. Now Azcopil was telling me a strange, involved story--a myth or legend or allegory--to account for it. More intent than ever on learning what it all meant, who or what were the “gods who carved the stones,” I laughed at his fears, reminded him that I, the son of Kukulcan, was more powerful than his evil gods, and bidding him remain behind with Itza, for I had no mind to expose her to any dangers either real or imaginary, I hurried towards the dismal looking spot. I had never seen anything just like it. It seemed to be an expanse of black, clay-like material, the decomposed débris that had fallen from a vein in the hillside above it and, all about it, were immense blocks and columns of squared stone. Examining these, I discovered that the surfaces of some were covered with a peculiar gum-like material laid on in complicated patterns. One of these rested at the very edge of the black deposit, and as I stooped over it, I uttered an involuntary exclamation of amazement. Wherever it had touched the blackish material, the surface of the stone had been deeply cut or eaten away, leaving the portions covered with the gummy coating in high relief! Sudden realization flashed upon me. The “gods who carved the stone!” The forbidding black clay! The stuff itself was the prince’s “gods!” It possessed some power, some quality to eat into the solid rock as acid eats into steel. The whole mystery of how the Mayas accomplished their marvelous sculptures was solved! The stone monuments, the façades of their buildings, had not been carved by hand. They had been etched, etched on a gigantic scale by means of this strange, black mineral substance. What was it? What terrible corrosive power did it possess? I shuddered and shrank back. A substance that could eat into the hard rock was to be given a wide berth. No wonder the prince had feared the place. Then I remembered his story, the toll of lives exacted by the “gods who carved the rock.” It was clear enough now.