Needless to say； I was extremely annoyed； but of redress I could obtain none。 Contradiction where the country is so vast and newspapers are so many is hopeless。 However； when I was leaving New York another representative of the same great paper came to interview me on the steamer； and to him I expressed my feelings。 He listened； then replied； with a somewhat sickly smile； “Very annoying； Mr。 Haggard； but I guess it would be scarcely loyal of me to give our man away； would it？”
Nothing could exceed the kindness with which we were received in the United States — even the reporters were kind till it came to cold print。 Really I think that Americans are the most hospitable people in the world。 I will go further and say that nobody is so nice or sympathetic or broad…minded or desirous of all good as a really first…class American； man or woman。 I remember that on the occasion of this visit we were quite glad to escape from New York； where literally we were being killed with kindness。 To feast with some hospitable host at every meal； from breakfast till a midnight supper； after a week or so bees more than the human frame can bear。
From New York we went to the beautiful city of New Orleans； where also we were widely entertained。 One dinner…party I shall never forget。 Upon each napkin lay a little poem anent something I had written。 For instance； here is one which evidently refers to “The World’s Desire”：
Upon thy breast the “bleeding Star” of love；
？Etherealised； and freed from serpent taint；
Is all afire； O burnished dove！
？For whom men fail and faint！
Moreover in the middle of dinner someone — I think it was our hostess — rose and read a poem at me。 Though very kindly meant； it was really most embarrassing； especially as I had no poem ready with which to reply。
In New Orleans； amongst other places of much interest； I was shown a park in which duels used to be fought in the early days； and a graveyard where； because of the water in the soil； the dead are buried in niches in the surrounding walls。
Leaving that most hospitable city； we travelled on to El Paso； then quite a small town on the Mexican border。 I remember that on the train I fell into conversation with a gentleman who； much to my astonishment； informed me that in the future we should telegraph through the air without the use of any connecting wires； and furnished me with the details of how this would be done。 At the time I confess it occurred to me that he was amusing himself by gammoning a stranger who was known to write romances。 Now； however； I see that at the mencement of the year 1891 there was at any rate one person who was very well acquainted with the system of wireless telegraphy which is now identified with the name of Mr。 Marconi； then a lad of sixteen years of age。
There were at this time two railway lines running from the States to Mexico City； and I recollect that we hesitated long by which of them we should travel。 Our choice was fortunate； since the train which left on the same day by the other line met with many adventures。 Amongst other things it was twice thrown off the rails by intelligent Mexicans actuated either by spite or the hope of plunder； and some of its occupants were killed。 Mexico； even in those days； was a wonderful city of almost Parisian appearance； but I confess that what interested me more than its tramways and fine modern buildings were such relics of old Mexico as could be seen in the museum and elsewhere； and the mighty volcano of Popocatepetl； which the Aztecs feared and worshipped； towering to the skies。 The cathedral also； built by the early Spanish conquerors； is a remarkable church； though； owing to the rarity of the air at that height above sea…level； I should not remend any visitor who has doubts as to the condition of his heart to follow our example and climb to the top of its tower。
I think I mentioned that the original cause of my visit to Mexico was the tale of a certain treasure which appealed to all my romantic instincts。 This was the story so far as I can recollect it。
In Mexico Mr。 Jebb knew a certain Cuban named Don Anselmo。 This man； who was a geologist； was prying about on the farther shore of Lake Tezcuco； when a Mexican emerged from some bushes and remarked that he saw that Anselmo knew the secret which he thought belonged to himself alone。 Anselmo； being no fool； pumped him； and out came the story。 It appears than an aged cacique confided to the Mexican the plans and inventory of that portion of the treasure of the Aztecs which was recaptured from the Spaniards in the disaster of the Noche triste。 This inventory set out a list of eighteen large jars of gold； either in the form of ornaments or dust； several jars full of precious stones； much arms and armour； also of gold； and lastly a great golden head more than life…size； being a portrait of the Emperor Montezuma。 The plan showed where and how all this wealth had been disposed of in a pit sixty feet deep； at the bottom of which was a great rock covered with Aztec writing。 The mouth of this pit was on the land where Anselmo was pursuing his geological researches； and marked by two ancient trees planted near to it by the Aztecs when they buried the treasure。
The only stipulation made by the old cacique when he revealed the secret； which came straight down to him from his forefather who had helped Guatemoc to bury the treasure； was that it should never be given up to Government or to any Spaniard。
Needless to say； the Mexican and Don Anselmo entered into a partnership。 Anselmo tried to raise funds to buy the property。 Failing in this； he got the leave of the proprietor to prospect for sulphur； and； with some others； began to dig at the spot indicated on the plan。 All went well。 The Mexican kept away native loungers by announcing that devils dwelt in the hole。 The pit was cleared out； and at the depth of sixty feet was found the great stone； on which was cut an owl； the crest or totem mark of Guatemoc。 Unfortunately； just at this time the excavators were advised that the property had been sold to a new owner； who was ing to inspect it。 All night long they worked furiously at the stone； which at last they destroyed with dynamite。 A tunnel was revealed beyond； running at right angles into the side of the hill； till some steps were reached that mounted upwards。 On one of these steps lay the copper head of a spear。 At the top of them； however； was a very solid wall of some hard material which had been fused by heat。
The excavators retreated； baffled by the lack of time and this imperable wall。 They filled in the shaft； hurling down it the boles of the two trees that Guatemoc had planted； and ran before the new owner arrived； announcing that they had found no sulphur。
Ultimately Anselmo approached Mr。 Jebb； who was known to have influence with the member； or ex…member； of the Government who had acquired the property。 From him Jebb obtained permission to dig for antiquities on his estate。 I remember the arrival of the formal letter of leave； but not what stipulations were made as to the disposal of any articles that might be found。 Full of hope that it would fall to our lot to discover the golden head of Montezuma and the jars of treasure and of jewels； with the help of Senor Anselmo we were making our preparations once more to clear that shaft when the terrible news of which I have spoken arrived。 After its receipt I had no heart to enter upon the adventure。
A year or so later Jebb returned to Mexico to find； I think； that the Mexican concerned was dead and that Anselmo had vanished； none knew where。 It was suggested that he had been murdered by Indians who knew that he held the secret of their ancient wealth。 But whether this was so or not I cannot say。
The site of the shaft is； I suppose； now lost； although of course some of the peons that assisted in the clearing of the pit may remember its whereabouts； if they still live。 I understand； however； that only Anselmo and the Mexican actually destroyed the covering stone engraved with an owl and explored the passage and flight of steps beyond。 The peons probably thought that they were really digging for sulphur without the permission of the proprietor of the land。
The story as it stands is； I admit； like most such stories； rather vague； but for my part I believe； as did the late Mr。 Jebb； that Montezuma’s treasure or a large part of it remains buried in this place。 That it is buried somewhere is not to be doubted； for the Spaniards never recovered what was lost in the rout of the Noche triste。 Indeed； my impression is； although I cannot verify this without rereading all the old chroniclers； that they put many Indians to the torture； including Guatemoc himself； as I have described in “Montezuma’s Daughter；” in order to force them to reveal its hiding…place。 However this may be； I doubt whether the golden head of Montezuma and the jewels which he wore will ever again see the light of day。 The Aztecs buried them deeply； having time at their disposal； no plough or surface excavation will reveal them； and the place of their sepulture is lost。 And this must anyhow be pleasing to the shade of the heroic Guatemoc。
By a little stretch of the imagination one might almost fancy that this hoard still lies under the protection of the evil Aztec gods； of one of which I will now tell the story。
Shortly before I went to Mexico； in the course of some drainage works which were then being begun at a distance from the city — I think the place was called Zumpango； but of this I am not sure — a peculiarly hideous idol was discovered。 It was grey in colour； but； if I remember rightly； more or less blotched with pink； and its head was sunk almost between the shoulders； while I can only describe the face as devilish。 On its disinterment it is a fact that the Indians of the neighbourhood identified it at once； by the tradition which had descended from father to son among them； as a slaughter…idol of the Aztecs which had been buried at this spot to save it from destruction by the Spaniards in the time of Cortes； and there remained in seclusion until the year 1890。 Its resurrection is said to have occasioned great excitement among them。
One of the old chroniclers — I think it is Bernal Diaz — describes the finding of the Place of Sacrifice over which this idol presided。 If I recollect aright he says that they saw a pole from the top of which the idol itself had been removed； and that the said pole was built all round with the skulls of human victims whose hearts had been torn out as an offering to it。 In short； the pedigree of the thing seems to be well authenticated。 As Mrs。 Jebb describes in the Life of her husband； Jebb； an ardent collector of curiosities； was very anxious to obtain this blood…stained relic； which he offered to buy at no mean price。 The finder； however； could not be tempted to part with it； and there the matter remained。 One day； however； to Jebb’s great astonishment； the idol arrived on the back of a native； unacpanied by any note or word of explanation； and was deposited in his flat in the city of Mexico； where he found it on his return home。 When I visited him very shortly afterwards one of the first things that I saw in the house was this ill…omened effigy of Huitzilpotchli； or whatever god it represented； gr