Plate No. 7 represents the statue of Chaacmol at the moment of its arrival at the upper part of the plane on the surface of the earth; the cables of the _habin_ bark which served to extract it; the construction of the capstan; and the profundity of the excavation.
Plate No. 8 represents the capstan that served me to raise the statue, the size of which you may know, Sr. President, comparing it with your servant and the Indians who aided at the work. The trunk of a tree, with two hollowed stones, were the fundamental pieces of the machine. These rings of stone were secured to the trunk with vines. Two forked poles, whose extremities rest at each side of the excavation, and the forked sticks tied up to the superior ring embracing it, served as _arc-boutant_ in the direction where the greatest force was to be applied. A tree-trunk, with its fork, served as a fulcrum around which was wound the cable of bark. A pole placed in the fork served as lever. It is with the aid of this rustic capstan that my ten men were able to raise the heavy mass to the surface in half an hour.
But my works were not to end there. True, the statue was on the surface of the earth, but it was surrounded by débris, by ponderous stones, and trunks of trees. Its weight was enormous compared with the strength of my few men. These on the other hand worked by halves. They always had the ear attentive to catch the least sound that was perceived in the bush. The people of Crecencio Poot might fall upon us at any moment, and exterminate us. True, we had sentinels, but the forest is thick and immense, and those of Chan-Santa-Cruz make their way through it with great facility.
Open roads there were none, not even to carry the statue of Chaacmol to civilization if I had the means of transport.
Well, then, I had resolved that, cost what it might, the world should know my statue--my statue, that was to establish my fame forever among the scientific circles of the civilized world. I had to carry it, but, alas! I calculated without the prohibitive laws.... Sr. President, to-day, with grief I write it, it is buried in the forests, where my wife and myself have concealed it. Perhaps the world will only know it by my photographs, for I have yet to open three long leagues of road to conduct it to Ɔitas, and the moment is already approaching when the doors of the American Exhibition will open.