HECTOR R. BRICENO LIBRARY

This book is a part of an unprecedented collection of legends in the region of the Petén in Campeche, inhabited mainly by descendants of those who arrived at some time to the territory, to perform work on the exploitation of natural resources in the forest, mainly hardwoods, gum resin, rubber and, logwood.

Furthermore, this story is the product of experiences of those men who fought against nature, when modernization had not yet reached those lands: They are tales whose origin is real life, where man lives with animals, with fantastic creatures and landscapes of unrivaled natural beauty.

Essentially speaking of the forests of Calakmul a Mayan civilization center of great proportions that at the time that tells the text still belonged to an estate called Matamoros, in which was included part of the current municipality of Escárcega.

The forests of Calakmul and, therefore, those of Escarcega before being usufruct for "The Laguna Corporation" were also operated illegally by clandestine sawmills that were located in the bowels of the impenetrable jungle, these foreign sawmills hired Indians and mestizos, which after fulfilled their contract were kept as slaves, these people could not escape through the jungle typical dangers, the lack of roads and the persecution by the owners of the sawmills.

The Ghosts of the Sawmill

Chapter 1

This story happened with a group of loggers near the end of the season of the cutting of trees down; it had been rainy days it had not allowed much activity so that we remained in camp to sharpening axes and machetes, splitting firewood for cooking, doing something else or just lounging until nightfall.

 The season to cut trees was coming to an end, and the rains did not allow us to perform our work well because of the truck's tires slip on the muddy ground, there were also abundant the chaquistes, mosquitoes, and the poisonous snakes who were looking for dry places that commonly those were the paths and trails; furthermore, we knew that our time on the mountain was running out, and soon the gum tappers would come into the forest, to extract resin from the Sapodilla tree.

It had become customary to tell tales horror before bed; someone,  proposed it that humid night, but due to stressful work that day, had no echo such proposal, so gradually the people went falling asleep, Jacinto and Sotero lay down on the floor next to me getting ready to sleep.

Everyone slept soundly, only you could hear their snoring and the sizzling of the campfire where a thick trunk of jabín (Florida fish poison tree) was burning producing smoke.

I could not sleep thinking about the end of the season and in not covered commitments. Since the rain makes the soil muddy and skid the rear wheels of the truck, we might not travel any more across the forest; so it is necessary to leave the felling of trees, but that is the law in the mountains, in the drought is time for wood working, and during the rainy season for the sapodilla resin. Therefore, any day, the gum tappers come to the camp of the pond, marking the time to retire or join them.

I pondered on this, when suddenly! I heard something. It was like a desperate screaming from someone asking for help. I sharpened the ear because due to the persistent drizzle that was falling, I had not heard well. But, yes they were voices; you could hear gloomy, and they gave us chills they were voices calling for help, or at least, so it seemed, calmly I got up, and woke up to Sotero, slowly I told him to remain silent to listen to something that was worrying me, quick! Jacinto also woke up asking about.

"What's going on?"

 Sotero said, "We heard something, pay attention to see if you identify the sounds."

 Jacinto, being pure Indian race had well developed his senses, especially the sense of hearing since he was using them in the jungle frequently. He heard for seconds and said:

"Yes, they are voices of several people asking for help, are on the main path, near here."

  "Let's go to see that is this," said Sotero.

"Let's do it quick, perhaps they are hunters needing help," Jacinto said.

With the machete tied at the waist we left the shelter, the rain had become drizzle extremely thin, seemed to dense fog, falling down slowly on the mount, filtering through of the branches of the trees.

We headed towards the real rood which was near from there. However, when we arrived you could hear the affliction of pain, further away from us as if those who were saying also were walking in the same way, moving away from us.

In the darkness of the night with the light of a hunting lamp placed on the forehead, we could just distinguish in the distance, the figure of some men wearing threadbare caps; they were carrying another man as if he was badly wounded or drunk, then Jacinto shouted.

"What happen? Do you need help?"

"Yes, please help us," responded they with plaintive voices.

Through the fog, it looked as if their bodies remain in the same place, then we walked quickly toward them, but when we approached, with the glow of the lamp, we noticed their fleshless hands, and below their caps rotten, the bones of their skulls, they looked whiten, were skeletons dressed in rags! Then, we stopped abruptly, and full of fear we stayed paralyzed.

At that time, the ghosts were entered to the most intricate of the forest, and out of our sight, when we leave our astonishment; we ran toward the camp, but we fell down in the mud stumbling over logs and stones, slipping and falling in the mud, when we finally arrived at the camp, the people were already preparing to go in our search because they had heard the cries of Jacinto.

Agitated by the run, and filled with fear; we told them what happened with broken words, all were terrified and suggested the immediate return to the camp, they commented that they were the ghosts of deceased chewing gum collectors who roamed the mountain, they were frightened, and I had to give them strength, so I told them that maybe if they were the ghosts they were talking, about they were already gone, and they could not hurt us at all, only scare us.

The women were very scared, and they started praying to implore the divine protection, doing grimmer the moment; to ward off the fear, we made large torches with the diesel fuel of the truck, leaving the entire camp illuminated.

Someone brewed coffee in a pot, and the majority of the people, alarmed were remaining awake talking about the event, but Jacinto said that with so much light, vigilance and prayers there did not exist ghost capable of coming up to us; nevertheless, we had huddled, one between the other as seeking protection to each other, and we began to snore.