Treasure Hunt 2
By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com
A major storm came in later that night so there was no way we could get to the site for the next two days. We spent the day planning. I had more experience than anyone else with expeditions, but a month or two in the field during the summer didn't make me an archaeologist. I had worked with Dr. Samuel West on a site in western Mexico. He impressed me as a gifted and skilled man. He taught at Penn and thus moved in elevated circles.
Julio knew one of the top men in Mexico City, Xavier Colonna. I was aware of the name and had read several articles he wrote in academic journals. We discussed an all-Mexican staff, but Julio was opposed. He wanted broad media coverage and exposure to the site. He felt a joint Mexican-United States effort was desirable. I called Penn and was told Dr. West was in Guatemala. He had a cell phone and it worked. I outlined what we had found and he said he could be there in a day.
Julio called Xavier and had the same experience. Julio and Rod would finance the expedition. Julio had no end of men who were willing to serve as diggers. He wanted his own people to do the labor. He trusted them and could avoid the petty pilfering that can be typical of digs.
He also wanted to make sure we had a season or two of digging before any big announcements. He was insistent that any mention of the Duke of Lerna was kept secret. "We will be overwhelmed by treasure hunters otherwise," he said.
"I can take care of those," Captain Luis said.
Julio laughed. "I am afraid you greatly underestimate the lure of treasure," he said. "If you just mention the words gold and emeralds we will have half the population of Mexico here."
"And perhaps fifty percent of the redneck population of the United States," I added. "We need to keep it quiet and keep it ways from the cable television fake documentaries. Long inscriptions are one thing. Gold and jewels are another." We had a plan of action but needed the professional to make a final plan. They were on the way.
Since it was raining, I took a trip to Padre Ernesto's Church. It was spectacular. It was an ancient pile, largely unchanged. It was perfectly preserved; it didn't have electricity. The library was on an upper level of the bell tower and was unexpectedly dry. The documents seemed to be in good condition. Ernesto pulled a lead box from a shelf. When he opened it there was a sheaf of parchment pages, all inscribed in Greek. The title was An Account of the Southern Regions, 1594. By the standards of the time, the script was simple and workmanlike. The Author did not sign the work other than referring to himself as the Greek.
I was vaguely aware some Greeks fled to Spain after the fall of Constantinople, El Greco was a descendant of that group. Apparently, one of these Greeks attached himself to an expedition. He wasn't a calligrapher, so the script was simple and easy to read compared to the elaborate efforts of calligraphers. The Greek had subdivided the text into chapters and given each a title and a descriptive paragraph.
The title of Chapter I was, "Arrival." The paragraph began with, "I arrived in S. Maria Espagnosa and met the Abbott." I quickly looked through the chapters headings. Chapter XIII was, "Conversion," and the description was, "By Father Juan's powerful preaching we convert the Bear Tribe from their heathen ways to bask in the grace of our Lord Jesus." Chapter LXVII was "Massacre. We find the remains of a noble party of Spaniards massacred by the Bear Tribe many years earlier." "The final Chapter was "Plague." It was unfinished.
Frankly, the last thing you would expect to find in a Renaissance manuscript is clarity. Later on, I discovered our Greek was also fluent in Latin and he much admired the simple prose of Caesar's Gallic Wars. Elsewhere in the text the Greek wrote, "This is a true account unembellished by the fantasies demanded by the expectation of our times. Father Juan wanted the text to be useful for those who followed him so they would be better prepared for the trials that awaited them. The good Father wanted the failures as well as the successes chronicled. Thus I wrote this in Greek so it could be understood only by the worthy."
There were a total of 67 manuscripts in the library. Most were copies of religious and theological works. Our Greek had two more works of his own. One was "Memories." In this book, he had interviewed older men and women and recorded their memories of the place. The other was, "An Account of the Bear Tribe." This was an effort to compile stories of the history of the local tribe, complete with a history and customs and religion.
I leafed through this and found Chapter XLI, Sacrifice. "While the heathens followed many of the barbaric customs of the residents of most of this area, the Bear Tribe was distinguished by its rejection of Human sacrifice. At one time elders recall hearing of such practices, but no one recalled a human sacrifice in their or their grandparents' lifetimes."
The Bear tribe offered the seed of life as their gift to the Gods. The Greek was a bit cagey about the exact meaning of seed of life. He said the rituals were obscene but not violent. He went into some detail about the debates among the priests as to how to stamp out the practices.
Apparently, our Greek and Father Juan wanted to take the slow and easy way to emphasize the virtues of the Church. "While the practices of their religion are shocking, they are far less so than the vile brutality of most of this area. I fear if we stamp them out, they may well be replaced by something much worse," he wrote quoting Father Juan. His opponent was a man named Brother Carlos. He felt the rites "were depraved and far worse than Human sacrifice." The Greek did not like Brother Carlos and was very frank in his opinions. I assumed Brother Carlos could not read Greek.
Father Juan observed, "Salvation is still available to those who participate in the Bear Tribe rituals no matter how disturbing you find them. Dead men can't repent." Father Juan was the senior priest and his ideas carried the day. The outbreak of the plague ended all discussions on the subject.
I returned the book to its lead box and returned to the hacienda. I told Julio about the documents. We needed a conservator who was knowledgeable about parchment books. I was concerned about the state of the documents in their lead boxes. Once they were opened, they might deteriorate. He called Mexico City and the next day Brian Salazar arrived.
Brian looked like a dapper English gentleman except for his dark complexion and black hair. I thought he almost looked like a Mexican playing the role of an Englishman. It was disconcerting, and got more so when he talked. He had a pure Oxford accent.
I wondered if he were a stunningly pretentious man. I later found out his father was a diplomat and served at the Mexican embassy in London, as well as New Delhi and Ottawa. Brian was indeed educated at Oxford. We went to the church and I showed him the documents. He was stunned. Their value was incalculable. After an afternoon exploring the treasures, we went to talk to Julio.
Brian wanted to take them to a conservation lab in Mexico City. Julio would have none of that. He wanted to make sure the objects stayed in the area. "What would it take to set up a lab," Ron asked.
"It is very expensive, $200,000.00 to $300,000.00," Brian replied.
"That is doable," Rod replied.
"Let me show you something," Julio said. He took us to a building to the rear of the hacienda. We went in and discovered it was his library. "My mother loved to read. My father built this for her," he explained. "It is air conditioned and humidity controlled. The books would mildew without it."
The room was somewhat cool and was dry.
After considerable discussion, Brian agreed to the arrangement. He did not read Greek and understood Julio's concern about losing the district's treasures to Mexico City. Since Julio and Ron had deep pockets and were sensitive to the conservation needs of the documents, he was satisfied. He knew of a scholar who spoke Greek and could do a Spanish translation along with my English translation.
Samuel and Xavier arrived the next day. They knew each other, but had never worked together. Samuel tended to act and look likes the absent-minded professor. Actually, he was more like the absent-minded professor meets Gabby Hayes. He had been in the field and his beard and hair were out of control. They were never much under control anyway, but he looked almost deranged. Xavier was perfectly groomed and I foresaw a problem.
Both men were completely bi-lingual and the hit it off immediately. Xavier's strong suit was linguistics and decipherment. Samuel was a field man who enjoyed getting in the dig and getting his hands dirty. Xavier liked analysis and the careful study of objects and inscriptions. Their talents complimented each other. When they saw the site, I immediately saw how complimentary they were.
Julio's men had cleared more of the inscription. We had christened the area the Plaza of the Inscriptions, but we had since found a second site, the Grand Boulevard. This was a diagonal street lined by as yet unexplored mounds. The inscriptions in the Plaza alone could occupy a team for years.
The architecture of the mounds appeared to be distinctive and somewhat different from other sites. There was more than enough work for several teams of excavators. Samuel and Xavier split up the work. Xavier was the chief archaeologist, the director; Samuel was the Site Manager and in charge of field operations.
I knew there was no reason to have an amateur like me involved at all. I did know Samuel and we had a good experience several years earlier, but that was hardly a qualification. My Greek skills were needed and I had presented the site in a clear and direct way to the men. Clarity isn't a characteristic of most archaeological presentations, and both men appreciated that.
More importantly, Rod was my friend and he would be partially funding the excavation. Keeping the donor happy is the most important unwritten rule of excavations. One the expedition I had been on with Samuel we had the son of the donor working with us. He was trying to find himself without any success. Finding himself seemed to involve a lot of Mexican beer. Samuel had a good relationship with the local Police chief and that saved the day. An amateur archaeologist who could read Greek was not a problem.
Samuel bunked with Robin and me while he was at La Casa. Xavier got his own room. I was impressed this didn't bother Samuel. Status is complicated in a foreign country. It is better to be modest and unassuming, than to be bent out of shape over what might or might not be a slight. Xavier was the Executive Director for a federal agency, and was accorded the appropriate considerations.
I knew Samuel was unmarried and noticed while he was strictly professional with all the volunteers at the dig he was a bit more attentive to some of the younger men. I put one and one together and assumed he was a member of the fraternity. I also assumed he liked younger men, but he got along with us well. Pedro liked him a lot
Physically, Samuel had all the grace an elegance of a brick. He looked short and squat, although he was of average height. He was above average width. He wasn't fat; he was just thick. Samuel had no waist and almost no neck. He had a drooping beer can sitting on two oranges in place of genitals.
When he discovered the nearly naked dress code of La Casa, he was a happy man; he had no problem being naked in the room. The first night Pedro treated him to one of his sleep inducing treatments. Samuel liked that. Samuel had a big cock head with a wide slit that was partially open. On the second night Samuel was with us, Alfonso dropped in to talk. He wore only his gold cock ring. Samuel's cock began to drip.
After Alfonso left, Samuel apologized. "Sorry about that," he said. "I can't control my cock as well as I should."
"It's hard to keep secrets when you're naked," I said. He was standing next to me as I sat on the bed. I leaned over and licked his cock drool. He spurted a thick ribbon of sperm in response. I opened my mouth and took it as well as the following spurts. Later Robin joked I sure had a way to make friends.
Samuel was always ready to play. He explained to me that he liked younger men, but most were strictly off limits for a tenured professor. "I wasn't as if I was a stud magnet even when I was young," he said. "As I got older and woollier, it got harder to find the men I wanted. The Gabby Hayes look isn't for everybody. About five years ago, I gave up and had fun with some men my own age. This may sound strange I thought I need a stud to ring my chimes. It was nice to have any sex with anyone and pretty soon it was a lot more than nice."
"I also discovered once I stopped hunting for young stud muffins, I seemed to attract more," he continued. "That look of desperation isn't that attractive. It turns out there are some young men who want to play with gramps. I need to warn you; I am in heat all the time. I am always ready to play. If I'm awake, I willing!"
"You sound like a teenager," Robin said.
"That's it. I'm a randy teenager trapped in a fifty-five-year-old body," Samuel replied. "I am ready, willing and able most of the time."
We laughed and went to bed. In time, we discovered Samuel described himself correctly. He was always willing to join in. He was most open minded as to playmates and seemed to attract younger men who wanted a father figure.
Pedro knew of Samuel's tastes and brought some younger men to the room. These were all in their early twenties, and seemed to like Samuel, Robin and m genuinely. At first, I thought they were just doing us a favor, but Pedro explained the tribal customs.
Given the rough life in the jungle, men tended to die young. Older men were greatly respected since advanced age was a mark of divine favor. It was an honor to associate with older men, especially if they were wise and learned. We fit those characteristics. When I said they associated with older men, I meant they had sex with older men. I got the impression they thought we transmitted wisdom and longevity through sperm. I later found this was correct and a major part of the tribal traditions.
Robin liked to top; I tended to bottom and Samuel did it all. This was a revelation to the Indians. Traditionally older men topped; younger men bottomed. It was a great honor for them to top an older man. It also seemed Indian sexual relations were firmly of the slam, bang, and thank you ma'am school. Samuel got them to take their time. They discovered the joys of spending ten or fifteen minutes in a welcoming ass.
Given his unusual sexual drive, Samuel was a workhorse, and never seem to have a conflict between his sexual urges and his professional life. He could be drenched in sweat and covered in dirt, but still suck a cock and get the work done. He struck me as a human bulldozer.
Samuel got along well with the laborers on his digs. Traditionally there was a wall between the academic staff and the peons, the diggers and laborers who actually did the physical labor. On many of his excavations, the laborers were students so it was a different relationship. It was more of a coach-team sort of thing. Samuel discovered you got better work by treating the hired help well. He always insisted they be well paid, and he explained the significance of a find to the man who found it.
He also gave credit where credit was due. He had the photographer take a picture of the laborer with his find and gave credit to the laborer. This was shocking to most of the men. Traditionally the archaeologist got credit even if he or she had been on vacation at the time of the actual discovery.
Samuel's attitude combined with Rod's good pay made for a happy site. We had no problems with pilfering and work moved at a good pace. I remembered when a student at an earlier excavation referred to a worker as a peon. He never made that mistake again, or at least never in Samuel's presence. Samuel had a good memory for names and knew many of the men.
This was oddly erotic. He was a man's man. He certainly had a face and body only a man could like. By contrast, Xavier was sleek and almost elegant. While Samuel was an over grown forest of a man, Xavier was a carefully pruned topiary shrub. Every hair was in place; every phase he said was carefully composed and considered. I discovered later his sexual drive may well have equaled Samuels, but Xavier was careful and selective.
When the rain stopped, we visited the site and they were dazzled. The buildings appeared to have been abandoned, not conquered. The only damage was from the thick vegetation. Every stone either seemed to be in place, or could be easily put back in place. Xavier's quick survey of the exposed inscriptions suggested it was a mythological work as I surmised. It was not just a chronicle of dates and events. It appeared to be a literary composition.
Of course, only a portion of the lengthy inscriptions was exposed and there was room for a variety of literary works including histories. Samuel was interested in the diagonal grand boulevard. We as yet didn't know where it led, but such a street was odd. Most Mayan buildings were on an approximately rectangular grid. The boulevard seemed to lead from the square Plaza of the Inscriptions at forty-five degrees to another site. The diagonal geometry was rare.
The jungle was exceptionally thick and it was hard to see more than a few yards ahead. You almost had to be on a building to find it and it was hard to tell the difference between a natural feature and a mound. So far, we had not found a major pyramid site.
Samuel thought it was almost inconceivable that a pyramid was not a part of the site. I asked if there might be a Cenote, or sacred well associated with the city. That too would have been typical of a sacred site.
My supposition of the existence of a sacred well was a lucky guess. A week later, we found it. In this case, the Mayans carved the edge of the well into a series of terraces forming an amphitheater, focused on the well. It was essentially an inverted pyramid carved into the earth. It was at the other end of the Grand Boulevard. The inverted pyramid was cone shaped and perfectly round.
We were in the rainy season and we rarely got more than a day or two of work done before rain interrupted progress. This gave us some time to think and relax. This was good for us. The rain also cleaned off the exposed portions of the Plaza of the Inscriptions. When we returned to the site after a rainstorm, the sunlight on the white stone glyphs was beautiful. It also brought out details in the carving that were hard to see. We took pictures in the early morning to show the detail.
I had planned to go home after a week to make up my mind if I wanted to work on the project. I couldn't do that. I was like a child in a candy store. Every day was so exciting I couldn't tear myself away. I called a cousin and told him to close up the house.
Luck was with me. My cousin Ralph had just lost his job and needed a place to live. He said he'd move in and keep the home fires burning until I returned. I stayed at the site for several months. Expeditions usually take years to be organized and funded. Julio and Rod weren't men who developed a grant proposal, submitted it to a foundation and waited for a board to review and approve it.
Both were men of action and of wealth. In Julio's case, wealth was paired with power. If they wanted to do something, they did it. There was a potential for such driven men to steamroll over the site, missing important artifacts. Rod was driven, but knowledgeable. He was interested in archaeology, and well aware of excavators who destroy important information and artifacts in their search for treasure. Rod wasn't academically trained, but he admired academic excellence.
Fortunately, Samuel and Xavier were careful, thorough and fast. They took time when necessary, but tended to move at a brisk pace. Julio had labor available. In a short period, we found there were no artifacts in the debris that covered he ruins. When the site was abandoned, there was no later habitation. It was as if the residents owners turned off the lights, closed the front door and vanished, never revisiting the site again. I thought of my Greek's book with the unfinished chapter labeled plague.
A month later, we had transferred most of the documents from the church tower to Julio's library. Julio had upgraded the climate control system to meet museum standards and provided a generator for back up protection. I was in the tower library of the church with Father Ernesto, when he found a door behind a bookshelf. The walls were four or more feet thick, so there was room for a closet or stair in the wall. I half expected to find a secret stair or passage, but it was a closet with additional books.
We found several large Mayan Codices as well as several smaller codices and documents. Most Mayan books were burned as part of the Spanish effort to suppress traditional Mayan religion. To say there were rare would be an understatement. There were two large folio sized books and three smaller volumes. One of these books was titled, A secret account of the Capture of Father Juan Desoto, his subsequent trials and liberation. It had a companion volume of well-drawn illustrations. The first page featured a portrait of Father Juan in his clerical robes. The second page showed the priest nude. He was sitting in a chair with his legs spread, exposing his generously scaled genitals. He was flanked by two fully erect Indians.
From the Secret Account, I discovered that male sex played an important role in the religious life of the tribe. I seemed as if the tribe sacrificed sperm to the gods, rather than blood. Human sacrifice, the least attractive aspect of Meso-American life did not play a role. This taste for sperm seemed to be characteristic of some of the modern residents of the area.
There is a fundamental difference between blood offerings and sperm offerings. Human sacrifice does not require the agreement of the sacrificial victim. Most seemed to be prisoners of war, although some might have been true believers. Sperm requires full participation of the donors. Indeed, it requires the enthusiastic participation of the men.
Doc had jokingly referred to sexual activities as a substitute for television in the area, and he was right. As far as I could tell, sex was male. Women were carefully protected and sheltered from anyone other than family and husbands. There didn't seem to be any restrictions on men sexual activities as long as it didn't involve a woman. Rape was absolutely forbidden. Apparently, neighboring tribes used rape as a part of normal warfare, and that was the greatest sin.
I seemed to me that in the pre television, pre movie and pre entertainment world, sex was magical in its pleasure making ability. Pedro knew the tribal rules well.