The Stories of El Dorado
by Frona Eunice Wait · English · Gutenberg #42823 · 339,772 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Stories of El Dorado
Author: Frona Eunice Wait
Release date: May 27, 2013 [eBook #42823]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
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THE STORIES OF EL DORADO
* * * * * *
Printed and
Engraved by
Sunset Press
San Francisco
* * * * * *
THE STORIES OF EL DORADO
by
FRONA EUNICE WAIT
Happiness is found only in El Dorado, which no
one yet has been able to reach.
--Spanish Proverb
Copyrighted 1904, by Frona Eunice Wait
San Francisco, California
This book is dedicated to dear little Jack Morgan
Gillespie, with the most affectionate and sincere regards of
his devoted friend,
FRONA EUNICE WAIT
Preface
"It has only recently been recognized as a fact," says Prof. A. F.
Bandelier, "_that on the whole American continent_, the mode of life
of the primitive inhabitants was formed on _one_ sociological
principle, and consequently the culture of these peoples has varied,
locally, only in _degree_, not in _kind_. The religious principles
were fundamentally the same among the Sioux and the Brazilians, and
physical causes more than anything else have been at the bottom of the
local differences." Such has been my own experience in studying the
stories of El Dorado which form the subject of this book, and in
presenting a man--a culture hero--who came by sea from the East, I am
justified by a more complete set of records than is known to the
superficial student. As this man's principles of life were the same,
we are forced to the conclusion that all the heroes were one
conception, handed down by oral tradition, but widely separated as to
locality, by the lapse of time, by migrations and commercial relations
of the different tribes.
As to where these myths originated, or how old they are, I have
nothing to suggest, since in presenting these simple variants, it is
no concern of mine. It is sufficient for my purpose to know that they
exist. To me they lend a dignity to our country by investing it with a
misty past, replete with a mythology as rich and sublime as that of
any of the races of antiquity. Not only will the study of them
inspire patriotism and make us better acquainted with the inner lives
of the red men, but it will tend to create an interest in our sister
republics which cannot fail to be of lasting practical benefit. We
know much more of Europeans than we do of the peoples of this
continent.
If mythology is to be taught in the schools at all, surely our own
should have consideration, and in familiarizing ourselves with the
traditions of El Dorado, we shall have one more incentive for higher
living. We shall learn that the great souls of the races that have
preceded us, in the Americas, have faced the same problems of life,
which are the heritage of our common humanity; that within its dark
shadows they too have struggled, hoped, and prayed.
No words incorporated into the English language have been fraught with
such _stupendous consequences_ as El Dorado. When the padres attempted
to tell the story of the Christ, the natives exclaimed "El Dorado," or
what the imperfect translations have made El Dorado--the golden. As
the ignorant sailors and adventurers had been kept from mutiny by
Columbus' promise of gold, it is no wonder that they seized upon the
literal meaning instead of the spiritual one.
The time, being that of Don Quixote and of the Inquisition, accounts
for the childish credulity on one side and the unparalleled ferocity
on the other. The search for El Dorado, whether it was believed to be
a fabulous country of gold, or an inaccessible mountain, or a lake,
or a city, or a priest who anointed himself with a fragrant oil and
sprinkled his body with fine gold dust, must always remain one of the
blackest pages in the history of the white race. The great heart of
humanity will ever ache with sympathy for the melancholy and pitiful
end of the natives, who at the time of the conquest of Mexico were
confidently expecting the return of the mild and gentle Quetzalcoatl,
the Mexican variant of this universal myth. None of the cruelties
attributed to the Indian had its origin in resistance to the
acceptance of a new faith. On the contrary he fought solely in defense
of his home, and from Patagonia to Alaska was always willing to listen
to the Christian ideas of God and the hereafter.
I have devoted the first seven variants to the original myth, while
the others pertain to the transitions to, and misconceptions of, the
name El Dorado. A lust for gold acquired by conquest was the
underlying motive of the discoveries and explorations made in the
western hemisphere, and is the beginning of all American history. We
have unconsciously added some variants to it in California, where the
mythical kingdom of Quivera became the land of gold of the '49 epoch.
El Dorado has long been a household word for anything rich and golden.
I begin by bringing the Golden Hearted from an island in the east, the
Tlapalla, from whence he came, and to which he returned in the legend.
In all variants he gave a distinct promise of return. This accounts
for the awe inspired by Europeans in the minds of the natives, causing
them everywhere to fall easy victims to the unscrupulous adventurers
swarming into their country. That there should have been confusion
seems unavoidable under the circumstances, but certainly Fate never
played a more cruel prank than to have one race of men speak and act
constantly from the standpoint of tradition and religious belief,
while the other thought solely of material gain.
Only in Hiawatha and the Pueblo Montezuma have I taken liberty with
the original. The former is based on the recent researches into
Algonquin and Chippewa myths of Michabo, the great White Hare. In the
Pueblo Montezuma I have followed Prof. Bandelier as to the latest
conceptions of the Wrathy Chieftain. My authority for making the
Amazon Queens degenerate priestesses of the sun, is J. A. Von Heuvel,
the defender of Sir Walter Raleigh's connection with the South
American version of the El Dorado legend. To Hubert Howe Bancroft's
abridgement of Father Sahagan's translation of the Popol Vuh am I much
indebted.
In all accessories I have utilized the products or characteristics of
localities visited by the mythical hero, but have avoided investing
him with a religious character or surrounding him with supernatural
phenomena. It will be wise to make a distinction between the purely
mythical, and that which led to history.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PAGE
THE HAPPY ISLAND 11
ZAMNA, THE EYE OF THE SUN 18
VOTAN, THE PEOPLE'S HEART 31
LORD OF THE SACRED TUNKEL 39
THE STARS' BALL 45
THE NATIONAL BOOK 52
MANCO-CAPAC, THE POWERFUL ONE 61
BOCHICA AND THE ZIPA 71
THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 78
MICHABO, THE GREAT WHITE HARE 80
THE BIRTH OF CORN 90
THE WRATHY CHIEFTAIN 99
QUETZALCOATL, THE PLUMED SERPENT 109
CHOLULA, THE SACRED CITY 117
TULLA, THE HIDING NOOK OF THE SNAKE 125
DEPARTURE OF THE GOLDEN HEARTED 132
EL DORADO, THE GOLDEN 140
BIMINI, THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH 151
MONTEZUMA AND THE PABA 161
THE CHILD OF THE SUN 176
THE GILDED MAN 189
THE WHITE SEA OF THE MANOAS 197
THE MOUNTAIN OF GOLD 207
THE AMAZON QUEENS 219
THE SEVEN CITIES OF CIBOLA 228
THE KINGDOM OF QUIVERA 240
THE LAND OF GOLD 250
THE NEW EL DORADO 262
APPENDIX 271
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
LEAVING THE HAPPY ISLAND (Drawing by Xavier Martinez) 17
"EACH STITCH MUST BE COUNTED" (Painting, The Weaver,
by Amadee Joullin) 21
THE BALL PLAYER (Drawing, Xavier Martinez) 30
"WHO ART THOU?" (Painting, Alexander Para, Mexico City) 35
"AN OLD-FASHIONED ALMANAC" (Photograph, Calendar
Stone, Mexico City) 48
"BEHOLD THE FIRST WORD" (Painting, The Hieroglyph
Maker, A. Joullin) 55
THE TAPIR (Tail-piece) 60
A SUSPENSION BRIDGE (Drawing by Xavier Martinez) 64
"THE PEOPLE SHOUTED 'HAILLE'!" (Painting, The Sun
Worshippers, E. Narjot) 69
"THE FLOWER-LADEN BALSA" (Tail-piece) 77
"THE HOUSE OF WUNZH" (Tail-piece) 89
THE WRESTLING MATCH (Tail-piece) 93
"THE WRATHY CHIEFTAIN" (Painting by J. W. Clawson) 104
THE POTTERY MAKER (Drawing, X. Martinez) 107
"THE HUMMING-BIRD ALIGHTED" (Drawing, X. Martinez) 111
"THE SNAKESKIN CANOE" (Drawing, X. Martinez) 124
"HERE IS MEDICINE FOR YOU" (Drawing, X. Martinez) 129
"A SONG OF FAREWELL" (Drawing, X. Martinez) 137
THE TORCH BEARERS (Tail-piece) (Drawing, X. Martinez) 139
"ON, AND ON THE CARAVELS SAILED" (Official photograph) 147
"LAND! LAND AHEAD!" (Official photograph) 148
"THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH" (Drawing, X. Martinez) 159
"THEIR NAKED BODIES HACKED TO PIECES" (Drawing, X.
Martinez) 185
DRYING INDIA RUBBER 201
"THE OLD WITCH, MONELLA" 214
"A FLOWER OFFERING" (Sketch by X. Martinez) 224
"ONE OF THE SEVEN CITIES" (Sketch by X. Martinez) 235
"FRAY MARCOS" 239
"AN OLD COMMUNITY HOUSE" 249
"DISCOVERY OF SAN FRANCISCO BAY" (Painting, Arthur
Matthews, by courtesy of S. F. Art Association) 253
"A PRAIRIE SCHOONER" 261
The Happy Island
A long time ago there was a beautiful island close by the place in the
east where the sun rises. The sea was all around it, and at noonday
the sun in the sky seemed to slant just above it. Being near the
equator and in a tropic clime the winds were soft and warm and full of
the odor of sweet flowers. Sometimes the sea was smooth and clear as
glass and then the goldfish and sea mosses floated near the surface
and glittered in the sunlight.
At night the moon came out big and round like a silver ball and the
stars shone very clear because there was no smoke nor fog in the air.
In the moonlight the queer little flying fish would jump up out of the
water and dart forth and back in the funniest way as if they were
playing some kind of game. Their tiny wet wings glistened like silver
gauze, and, when everything else was still, made a peculiar whirring
sound by all flapping at once.
The beach was strewn with quantities of conch and abalone shells, also
other species of all shapes and sizes and they were as dainty in color
as it is possible to imagine. The children of the Happy Island often
held the larger ones to their ears to listen to the murmurs and
complaints of the insects and other forms of life living inside them.
This was only a fancy, but many sea shells do have a soft musical
cadence if we care to hear it. Some poets believe that they were the
first musical instruments, and that the inhabitants of the sea send
messages ashore in this manner.
The ferns grew almost as tall as the trees and there were hundreds of
birds skimming through the air, or flitting through the branches
singing and chattering and having a very happy time. They were not
afraid because no one threw stones at them or tried to frighten them.
Everybody was glad to see them put up their little bills and ruffle up
their throats in singing, or else spread out their wings and splash
water all over their backs while they stood on a pebble or twig taking
a morning bath. The people said that when the birds were twittering
and chirping they were talking to each other. When they were singing
they were telling God how thankful they were for the warm sunshine and
plenty to eat.
There was a wonderful city in the center of the island named the City
of the Golden Gates because it was surrounded by a high wall of very
thick stones, with a great number of gates of gold through which the
animals and people passed in and out. Here lived the Old Man of the
Sea, as the king was called, and his son was a beautiful youth known
as the Golden Hearted because he was so gentle and kind. He was a
swift runner and could shoot well with a bow and arrow and was strong
enough to wrestle with a big man, but he preferred to make gold
ornaments and vessels for his father and was often permitted to go
into the king's treasure house to watch the workmen polish the
precious gems which they found in great abundance by digging into the
mountains near the city.
The people knew all about white and black pearls and how to get them
from the bed of the ocean. In full sight of the island was a large
reef of pink and white coral and the young prince went there many
times to see the curious little insects building their graceful, airy
houses over some rock hidden by the water. He sometimes imagined that
he heard the mermaids calling to him. What he really did hear was the
wind dashing the waves in and out of the coral chambers as if it were
determined to wash them away. The reef was an excellent place to fish,
and the Golden Hearted and his companions had many a fine day's sport
there while the divers were searching for the pearl oysters. He fished
with a drag-net made by himself, and he could let it out and haul it
in again like a regular sailor. He never killed any of the fish, and
the divers would not give him the pearls they found because they were
compelled to kill the oysters to get them, and this they said made the
pearls unlucky and was the reason why they are round and shining like
tear drops. The miners brought him all the emeralds they could find,
because this was the happiness-bringing stone. Its color is like the
soft grass in the springtime, and they wanted him to be always young
and have everything his heart desired.
The royal gardens were his special care and in them he was allowed to
cultivate any kind of tree or plant or grain. Then from them he must
learn the names and habits of the trees producing the best wood for
building houses, what plants were good to heal the sick, and all about
the grains useful for food either for man or animals. Every flower
that had a perfume grew in a separate part of the garden, and those
shedding their fragrance at night only were in a bed by themselves. He
was required to know the difference between single and double species
and why there is such a difference in the same family of plants.
Honey bees, big-winged butterflies, crickets and beetles hid in the
flowers or flew above them, and these all taught a lesson to the young
prince who had no other books. The honey bee was an industrious little
fellow continually building a piece of comb or else filling it with
honey. The butterfly, on the other hand, did not work at all but
changed from an ugly grub into a caterpillar and finally into a
gorgeous butterfly with spotted wings and bright eyes. The king told
his son that the butterfly was like a soul--the immortal part of
ourselves--and he wished him to be as busy as the bee, and to do no
more harm to other creatures than does the pretty butterfly.
The cricket was a cheerful, merry chap, usually singing at the top of
his voice, and the beetle tried to push all of the dirt out of the
garden. If he found anything he did not like he would roll and tumble
with it, even if it were much bigger than himself. This amused the
Golden Hearted very much, and when he grew tired of his own
occupations he would run out into the garden and watch the beetles.
One day he went into the splendid throne-room where his father was
giving audience to some wise old men who were foretelling what was
going to happen to the king and the people of the Happy Island. They
urged the king to send some member of his household to the strange
land over the sea, toward the setting sun, where the people were in
barbarism.
The Golden Hearted was much interested and thought here was an
opportunity to do some good for the weak and helpless. Springing
forward he said:
"Dear father, let me go. I am able to sail the seas and am willing to
devote my life to teaching these poor people how to live like
brothers."
The king felt proud of the young prince, but he loved him so dearly
that it was hard to let him go, and also hard to refuse such a noble,
manly request.
"Do you know, my son, this will entail a great deal of hardship and
self-denial?" he asked.
"Yes, father, but God intends us to earn all the good things in life;
He will not give them to us for nothing. That is His good law, which
makes us healthy, happy and wise--three of the most precious
possessions in the world."
"Go, my Golden Heart, and may God bless and keep you always," said the
king. "Take a green-throated humming-bird for your guide, and when you
find the land, journey on until you come to a place where a cactus
grows at the base of a rock and there is a golden eagle soaring in the
air above it. Halt there and found a city, and name it in honor of the
sun."
Then all the wise men begged to go with him, and for days after there
were great preparations made for the departure of the king's son. At
daybreak one morning he set sail in a snake-skin boat, and all the
inhabitants came with the king to throw flowers and emeralds into the
sea because they wished to show respect to the Golden Hearted. It was
their method of blessing him and wishing him good luck. The whole
shore line, as far as he could see, was lighted up by bonfires where
the people burned resin and perfume to commemorate his going.
At the water's edge stood the old sea king with his long white hair
and beard blowing in the wind. By his side was a cream-white horse
with three plumes in the top of its bridle reins and a square, red
blanket edged with deep fringe on its back. Crowns and moons and stars
of gold and silver were scattered over the blanket to show that the
horse belonged to the royal prince. Back of the king was a long line
of young warrior priests mounted on white horses, with red blankets,
and carrying reversed spears in their hands. They bowed their heads
when the poor old father leaned over on the horse's neck and cried as
if his heart would break as the boat with his only son in it pushed
off from the shore. Snatching a torch from the hand of an attendant,
the Golden Hearted waved it on high. Fire with them was a symbol of
wisdom, and when the king saw it, he answered the signal by waving a
torch, and the warrior priests flashed their spears in the bright
sunlight, and the people sent up a deafening shout.
This meant that they were willing to sacrifice their future king for
the good of a strange race of men who needed a teacher to show them
how to cultivate the land and how to build cities and live civilized.
The people of the Happy Island would not send a common man for a
teacher. No, indeed; they gave the best they had--their dearly loved
prince with the golden heart--to help their less fortunate neighbors.
And he gave up all luxury and comfort because he would rather be
useful, than live in ease as a king. The name of the island was
Atlantis, and the new country was our own--America.
[Illustration: LEAVING THE HAPPY ISLAND]
Zamna, the Eye of the Sun
"Ho There! Who comes to us in a canoe?" cried the people
in the strange land when the Golden Hearted and the wise men arrived
from the Happy Island. Many of the natives ran away and others hid in
the bushes because they were afraid they were going to be killed. None
of them were ever so badly frightened in their lives, and none had
ever seen white men before.
"Do you come to fight us? Are you warriors?" they asked.
"I am your friend, not your foe," answered the young prince kindly,
and holding a white flag high over his head. "To be a warrior is to
have been in many battles, and I never marched a day under the banner
of the king, my father. I come wholly in peace."
"He is only a lad. Surely we need not fear him," said the people
coming back to crowd around him on shore and to examine his boat and
clothes with much curiosity. "Why, then, are you here?" they finally
asked.
"I am sent by my father to teach you the Good Law."
"We already know how to shoot an arrow through the heart of an eagle.
We have taken many captives in battle, and are a scourge to our
enemies," they answered proudly. They were still suspicious of their
visitors.
"You crush a worm without mercy, never thinking it has the same right
to live as you have, and that in itself it is more wonderful than all
these things," said the Golden Hearted, reprovingly.
The natives were greatly astonished. Never had they heard any one
speak like this, and they could not imagine what sort of young man he
was. If he did not like the chase, and was not a warrior, and did not
believe in killing things, they could not understand him at all.
"What do you mean by the Good Law? What is it anyhow?"
"It is to be gentle and kind to all creatures, and to treat your
neighbor as if he were your brother. You must be just to the plant, to
the bull, to the horse and to the dog. The earth too has a right to be
cultivated. Neglect it, and it will curse you; fertilize it, and it
will show gratitude in a thousand ways. May your fields bring forth
all that is good to eat, and may your countless villages abound with
prosperity."
The Golden Hearted was so modest and sincere in speech and so well
mannered that they were pleased with him, and were beginning to feel
quite friendly. The wise men also said many nice things to them and
did all they could to make the situation pleasant.
To show appreciation and to welcome the young prince, the natives gave
him a handful of fireflies, because light with them was a symbol of
order, peace and virtue. This was a delicate, pretty compliment and so
delighted the Golden Hearted that he scattered them all over his head.
When they lit in his soft, wavy, yellow hair, their bulging eyes and
gauzy wings sparkled like diamonds and they did not try to fly away
because he sang to them:
"Firefly, firefly! bright little thing, Light me to bed and my song I
will sing. Give me your light as you fly o'er my head That I may
merrily go to my bed. Give me your light o'er the grass as you creep
That I may joyfully go to my sleep. Come little firefly, come little
beast, Come and I'll make you tomorrow a feast; Come, little candle,
that flies as I sing, Bright little fairy bug--Night's little king.
Come, and I'll dance as you guide me along, Come, and I'll pay you, my
bug, with a song."
Each fly has four spots, one back of each eye and under each wing
which it can make as bright as candle light when it chooses. Its body
is about an inch and a half long.
[Illustration: "EACH STITCH MUST BE COUNTED"]
When the prince put the fireflies in his hair, the natives present
touched the ground with their right hands and placed them over
their hearts in token of respect. He, in turn, gave them the white
flag he carried because it was an emblem of peace, friendship,
happiness and prosperity, as well as purity and holiness, and he
intended to bring them all of these things.
"What is your wish?" asked the natives of each of the wise men.
"We desire to bathe in the warm surf of these shores and then to make
a thank offering for our safe arrival and your kindly greeting," they
answered.
Criers with shrill trumpets and drums ran up and down the beach to
call in the fishing boats.
"The men wearing skirts are coming into the sea," they shouted, and
the Golden Hearted and his followers looked at each other with a smile
when they heard what the criers said. The natives wore only breech
clouts and feather and shell ornaments, much like the Indians of
today. Never before had they seen men wearing long white robes, beards
and high-crowned hats without rims, and having a square black cloth
hanging over the shoulders in the back like a veil.
"Is there something else needed to make you more content and
comfortable?" asked the criers when the fishermen had all come ashore.
"We need wood and stones to build an altar for our sacrifice," replied
the Golden Hearted.
While the newcomers were splashing in the surf, the porters brought
arms full of wood, and stones large and small and piled them near the
boat and waited to see what the visitors would do with them.
"Why do you wear skirts like women?" they next inquired, as the
bathers were putting on their robes after a long swim.
"Because we work for humanity," said the young prince. "No man is
really great who has not developed a woman's tenderness in his heart,
and that our fellows may know that we have this quality, we wear
skirts and robes."
This is why in our day the king and priest and judge wear long gowns.
The king rules men, women and children alike; the judge administers
the law for all of them, and the minister prays for the good as well
as the bad. For this reason we should respect their robes when we see
them.
The natives did not know the name of the young prince but when they
saw him take a piece of mica and hold it over a bit of cotton until
the sun set it on fire, they exclaimed "Zamna!" meaning "Eye of the
Sun," and this was what they called him while he lived in that
country. The wise men had placed some copal on top of the altar they
had made of wood and stone and it was not long before the cotton and
copal began to burn. As it did so, the Golden Hearted pointed with his
finger to a ray of the midday sun. First he and his followers held
their arms high overhead, then they sat in a squatting position and
recited all the incidents of their journey. Finally they all
prostrated themselves on the ground and returned thanks for their
safety and good health. Rising to their feet, the wise men began to
chant with bared heads and faces turned toward the east.
The natives thought this a very strange performance and debated among
themselves whether it could be part of the Good Law they were soon to
learn.
"Do you come to destroy our old faiths, and to bring us a new god?"
they asked as the wood on the altar burned low and the chanting
ceased.
"To attack any form of worship is like fighting darkness with a stick.
The only way to overcome the blackness of night dwelling in men's
hearts is to kindle a light--and the light of the world is love,"
responded the Golden Hearted as he slipped his arm through that of the
native who had asked him the question. "I did not come to quarrel with
you. I want you to think of me as a brother ready and willing to serve
you always. In my father's kingdom, the man who serves faithfully in
any capacity is the one most honored. Take this cross to the chief of
your village and say to him that He who is the Dew of Heaven, Lord of
the Dawn, and of the Four Winds, sends his only son with a message of
peace and good will to all his people. Show him the red hand painted
in the center and tell him that it is not meant to convey strength,
power and mastery, but that it is raised thus as an act of
supplication."
As the swiftest courier in the group was girding a red sash tightly
around his waist making ready for a quick run, the fishermen came up
from their huts and invited the travelers to come and share their
humble noonday meal. The Golden Hearted was glad to accept the
extended hospitality, not because he had no provisions of his own, but
because he valued their good opinion and was ready to do whatever he
thought would please them.
They were a gentle, kindly folk, these simple fishermen. Not only were
they industrious, but they were polite and reverential to their
superiors and as happy as a lot of children when they found the
strange prince under their roof. In all the after years they would
have been willing to die for him.
The wise men of his company were so strict in their habits that they
refused to eat the flesh of any animal, and their simple meal was soon
finished. But while every one else was at the table they performed a
sacred dance in a pompous and solemn style, circling around the Golden
Hearted who sat by himself. They had green palms in their hands and
every once in a while they would bow to the prince. In a peculiar
sing-song way they chanted a long poem telling about the history of
the Happy Island.
Imagine how funny they must have looked whirling round and round with
their long robes, black veils and wide sleeves filled with the wind.
They kept on their high hats and with their long beards and hair
flying in every direction, it was no wonder that the fishermen and
other people laughed and thought it was some kind of game. The dancers
were not at all offended, and when the natives asked if they knew how
to play ball, they answered good naturedly:
"No, but we would like very much to learn."
"Come out here into the alley and we will teach you. By and by you may
give us lessons in many things, but we are going to give you the first
one."
Then they all laughed, and so did the young prince and the wise old
men.
The alley where they played ball was one hundred feet long and had
smooth, white-washed walls about twelve feet high in the center, but
lower at each end where there was a rectangular nook for the players
to rest. The walls were quite thick at the base but tapered toward the
top which was finished with battlements and turrets.
Before the game began, the oldest player among them threw the small,
solid, India-rubber ball four times around the alley muttering some
words to himself all the time. The owner of the ground made the old
man a trifling present, and then the game began in good earnest.
The rule was to hit the ball only with the knee, elbow or shoulder,
not with the hands nor feet. The wise men with their long gowns and
veils had a hard time keeping up with the native players, who wore
very little clothing and were quick and sure footed. Two on each side
played at a time, and the great point was to send the ball against
the opposite wall or else over it as often as possible without
allowing it to touch the ground. There were two referees; one being
the Golden Hearted and the other, the oldest player.
Everybody shouted and laughed at the clumsy playing of the wise men
who tried ever so hard to imitate the things they saw the others
doing. It was a great effort for them and they panted and blowed as
they ran. Very often they tumbled heels over head by stepping on their
skirts in front. Then they would all go down together in a heap, one
on top of the other, and the referees would have much to do before
they could get them all straightened out again. It was jolly good fun,
but required considerable time and patience even for an expert player
to send the ball over the wall with either his elbow, knee or
shoulder.
In the center of the wall on each side was a huge stone carved with
images, having a hole in the center barely big enough for the ball to
go through. Whoever was skilful enough to make a drive through one of
them, not only won the game for his side, but was entitled to the
cloaks of all those present. Of course, this was a very difficult feat
to accomplish and made quite a hero of the man who succeeded, so every
player tried for the honor.
This day the young native who first hailed the Golden Hearted when he
landed, by a lucky toss of the elbow sent the ball flying through the
hole on the wise men's side. In a moment the spectators scrambled
down from their seats and ran away as fast as they could go. The wise
men stood looking after them in wide-eyed astonishment, and before
they had time to get out of the alley the victor stripped them of
their veils and then their tall hats looked like a piece of stove pipe
with a cover over one end of it.
The Golden Hearted insisted that each man should give back whatever he
had won in a bet on the game, and for each loss of this kind he gave
both winner and loser a present, and promised to teach their sons and
daughters how to weave cloth having figures in it. In such a way he
taught them how to count, and to this day they have no other method of
reproducing a pattern perfectly. Each stitch must be counted and only
a certain number of each color put in, and all this must be carried in
the head. The weavers are not allowed to write it down.
At nightfall the runners came in breathless with haste to say that the
chief of the village was sending a councilor and official guide to
welcome and escort the strange white men to his dwelling. But the
Golden Hearted was not in a hurry to leave the fishermen and common
people with whom he had spent the day, except for a short visit. When
he returned he taught them how to make sun-dried bricks with which to
build houses, also to shape the round water jars of brown pottery and
how to ornament them and the gourds they drank from. The wise men
assisted him in all this, and in time, the natives not only built
comfortable houses for themselves but learned how to fashion many
pretty designs of cornices and wall decorations out of stucco which
they tinted many colors.
The first thing he did when he went to the village was to make the
chief king, and then he ordered some of the wise men who were
architects and engineers to lay out a splendid city and help the
natives to build it. Before he came there were nothing but trails from
one part of the country to the other and the simple tradesmen did not
know how to exchange their wares. The Golden Hearted became the patron
of the builders and traders and lived many years with the people of
Aztlan.
While in that country, he occupied himself with the building of a
sacred temple dedicated to those who served the Good Law. It had four
beautiful halls facing the four cardinal points of the compass. That
on the east was the Hall of Gold and its walls were almost covered
with plates of the precious metal having delicately-chased pictures
over its shining surface. To the west was the Hall of Emeralds and
Turquoises where many gems were studded into the plaster. The south
hall was finished in silver while the northern hall was made of jasper
stuck with colored shells in curious patterns. In each room there was
a tapestry of yellow, blue, white and red feather mosaic that was as
fine as a painting and in some cases perfectly represented men and
animals. In front of the main entrance for many years stood a winged
lion cut out of granite holding an image of the Golden Hearted in his
mouth.
The name of the city was Mayapan and the king who had been merely a
village chief was the celebrated Cocomes of the olden times.
[Illustration: THE BALL PLAYER]
Votan, the People's Heart
One evening the Golden Hearted saw a ball of fire rise in the East
just about where the Happy Island was located, and it followed the
course of the sun. Then he knew it was time for him to take some of
the wise men and go into a new place, so he lay awake long into the
night and thought how best to begin to get ready. He knew the people
loved him very much, but he remembered his oath to his father, the
king, and though he was sad at heart, he determined to leave the next
day but one. He had not yet spoken to anybody about his intention, but
it must have been right else it would not have happened that a whole
lot more wise men came to the city that very day.
[Illustration]
"Now," he said to himself, "I can leave these wise men to help the
poor natives, and I will take seven of their families with me."
Seeing that it was daybreak and the sun about to rise, the Golden
Hearted sprang out of bed and hastily washing his face and hands,
threw the window wide open and lifting his arms high overhead said:
"Hail! Beauty of the Day! Homage to thee who riseth above the horizon.
I come near to thee. Thou openest the gates of another day. Great
Illuminator out of the golden, place thyself as a protector behind me.
Guide and keep me safe on the journey that I am about to undertake."
Then he dressed himself as quickly as possible and went out to find
the wise men and tell them what he was going to do. They were willing
to go with him, but King Cocomes was greatly disappointed, though he
felt more contented when the Golden Hearted promised to come back
again.
"Quiet thy heart, great king, and trust in my love," was what the
young prince said to him.
The travelers had to pass through the country of the Quinames who were
a very wild people. They went about naked with long matted hair
hanging over their shoulders, and they ate raw meat, fruits and herbs.
They knew nothing about cooking, but could make pulque, a kind of
beer, out of maguey plant, a cousin of the cactus family. On this they
often got very drunk. Then they were fierce and quarrelsome. At all
times these people were proud of their strength and cunning in battle
and in hunting the ferocious beasts roaming over the hills and plains.
The Quinames were really a dreadful set of men, but the Golden Hearted
was not afraid of them. He heard all kinds of stories about their
cruelty and savage ways of living, but he went quietly among them and
parceled out the land and showed them how to cultivate it. The
Quinames lived entirely by hunting and fishing and had no houses. When
one place did not suit them any longer, they moved to another, and
would never have learned how to live civilized except for the coming
of the prince and the wise men.
And what a terrible journey it was! It was in a tropic country where
there was so much warm rain that everything grew rank and luxuriant.
For whole days the Golden Hearted marched in the shadow of ferns as
big as trees and the ground was covered with briers and nettles.
Sometimes he had to go around muddy swamps or right through bushes
filled with snakes. Then, too, he had to swim across wide rivers and
climb steep, rocky mountains. In the tangled leaves and vines hundreds
of parrots screamed and screeched at them, while on all sides the
monkeys threw sticks from the branches of the trees. Gnats and other
poisonous insects stung his hands and face.
He traveled like this many days. Whenever he went into camp, the
Golden Hearted would invite the Quinames to dine with him in order
that he might teach them how to eat cooked food out of dishes. They
could not understand the use of cups and basins, because they drank
out of cocoa-nut shells and had never seen a napkin or tablecloth.
They had always been in the habit of taking the food in their fingers
and pulling it apart, and were not very nice about keeping their hands
clean either.
Of course, all this was very disagreeable to the Golden Hearted, but
he was as patient and kind as possible and those fierce Quinames would
not have harmed a hair in his head. When they asked him where he was
going he always answered, "To seek my brothers, the Culebra, of whom
thou shalt know more by and by."
"And from where comest thou?"
"From the mountain of Little Descent, and where I tarry, there will I
build Nachan, the city of Serpents."
The ignorant barbarians did not know that the word serpent meant
wisdom in the language of the Happy Island, but the wise men were much
pleased because they knew that this city was to be a great seat of
learning and that they would have charge of the temples and schools
when it was completed.
"Who art thou and thy followers?" was often asked of them on the way.
"We are Chanes and the sons of Chanes," but this did not mean anything
to the savages either, because they did not know that "Chane" was the
name of the wise men in their own country.
One day a culprit was brought before the Golden Hearted accused of
stealing a curious looking stick with yellow grains fastened all
around it. The Quinames said it was good food and they pulled off its
green wrappings and held it before the fire until it was browned and
then ate it. The Golden Hearted and the wise men had never seen this
plant before and were very much interested in their discovery. But
they did not think it well to say so.
[Illustration: "WHO ART THOU AND THY FOLLOWERS?"]
"Dost thou say this man is a thief?" asked the Golden Hearted.
"Yes, yes; we knew where the bush grew, but we were waiting until it
should be more yellow before giving it to thee," said the captors.
"I will prove thee," said the Golden Hearted to the accused. He took a
piece of finely-polished black stone from his breast pocket and held
it up before the prisoner saying, "Look into its shining face and
beholding thine own image, swear by the Heart of Heaven to speak the
truth."
The poor savage nearly died of fright when he saw himself because he
thought it was an omen of instant death. He quaked and trembled and
his eyes were as big and round as walnuts.
"From whence came this goodly seed?" asked the Golden Hearted kindly.
"From the edge of the wood where a silver band of water rots an old
tree," answered the man, still pallid with fear.
"Take thy share, and leave me what thy accusers intended for me."
The prisoner stared at him stupidly for a moment then his better
nature spoke and he took only one grain, and would have fled into the
jungle if the Golden Hearted had not caught him by the mantle.
"Look again into the mirror of truth."
This time the savage was not so afraid and he gazed curiously at the
stone for some time. Its surface was perfectly blank.
"Tell me what thou seest?"
"Nothing but its own dark face speaks to the eye of thy servant,"
responded the accused.
"Then know, my brothers," said the Golden Hearted turning to the
astonished Quinames, "this man is innocent and must go free."
"Thou art welcome to my life," exclaimed the accused joyfully; "thou
hast saved it and it is thine to command."
"Use it to perfect the growth of this strange seed so that thy fellows
and all grain-eating creatures may profit by thy labors."
The grain found in this manner is known to the people of that country
to-day as maize. We call it Indian corn.
When the wise men heard about it, they begged the Golden Hearted to
let them build a white house where any one accused of crime would be
safe until the judges could decide whether they were guilty or not.
The prince thought it was a very good plan and said:
"I will put the black stone in it and will make a law that no man
shall be called guilty if the surface of the stone does not change
when he is made to look into it. And to commemorate our safe passage
through this wild country, I will order several white houses built,
and each one shall be called Refuges Against Fear."
In those days no one seemed to think it was wrong to kill a person who
was said to be a thief or had done anything his neighbors did not
like, so it was very necessary for the Golden Hearted to teach them to
be just to each other. He told the Quinames that they must be sure
about a thing before they acted harshly, and he cautioned them to be
careful about believing or repeating unkind remarks they heard. It was
quite a long time before the Quinames would even try to do this, but
finally they helped to build the houses and were honorable enough not
to harm any one once inside the walls. Many a useful life was saved in
this manner, but sometimes a poor refugee was overtaken and beaten to
death with clubs before reaching the house.
Because the Golden Hearted succeeded in persuading the warlike
Quinames to live peaceably with their neighbors and to treat each
other well, he was called in that and many other countries, Votan, The
People's Heart, to distinguish him from the Heart of Heaven which was
their name for God. His was truly a great work because it was done
without a selfish motive and for no reward except the good of his
fellow men.
[Illustration]
Lord of the Sacred Tunkel
No one living can tell how many years ago it was that the Golden
Hearted built Nachan, the city of wise men, nor how many years it took
to do the work, but it has always been said to be a very beautiful
place. Anyhow, it was after he left the Quinames, and it was in a
country very much more civilized.
The Golden Hearted had many happy days there.
Even if he was a grown man and a great prince, he was very fond of
children and one day he visited the Temple of the Sun where the pupils
from school were having a holiday. They all had on their best clothes,
and their faces and hands were clean, but they were shouting, and
singing and playing games, very much like the boys and girls we know.
They felt sure that the Golden Hearted was their good friend and when
they saw him coming they ran out into the courtyard and crowded around
him as thick as flies.
"A story! a story!" they said; "Please, good Prince, tell us a story."
"What shall it be about?" asked the Golden Hearted with a pleasant
smile.
"Something very perfect and beautiful," they said.
"Let me think what we have in the world that is both perfect and
beautiful. Which would you prefer, something man has made, or that God
has made?"
The children were very much puzzled to know which to choose. They
tried hard to think what man had made that was without any faults and
could not be imitated or improved, either in appearance or quality,
but they were not satisfied with anything. Then they began to think
about the trees, the flowers, the precious stones, the sky and the
sea, and were getting more and more confused all the time when the
Golden Hearted laughed and said:
"I will tell you what we will do. We will send for the wise men and
ask them to choose."
The wise men thought it was great fun, so they hurried as fast as they
could and were quite out of breath when they got near enough to speak
to the Golden Hearted.
"Tell me something you know in the world that is both perfect and
beautiful," he said to the wise man who had charge of the Temple of
the Sun, and was first to arrive.
"The great, blazing, glorious sun," he replied.
"None but God could have made it, and we adore it and sacrifice to it
because it is the mask behind which God hides His ever-smiling face."
Many of the children shaded their eyes with their hands and took a
quick look at the sun overhead, and thought that was a good answer.
"What do you know in the world that is both perfect and beautiful?"
asked the prince of the next comer, who was a man wise in the art of
working metals. He had not heard the first answer, but, without
stopping a minute to think, said:
"Gold; because it is like the substance of the sun and cannot be made
by putting any metals together nor by any mixture of chemicals."
The Golden Hearted knew that was a correct answer but he wanted the
children to be satisfied, and he was not sure that all of them
understood it.
"Do you know that way down in the earth gold is created, and yet it is
shining and bright and yellow like the light of the sun? This accounts
for its beauty, and it is perfect because it is absolutely pure in
itself."
The next man that came along was wise, but he looked like a farmer.
"What have you seen in your life that cannot be improved or made
prettier?"
"Wheat," was his quick reply, "because it is not a blend of any of the
grains or grasses but grows out of the ground perfect. It is beautiful
in every phase of its life whether it waves in the wind like a sea of
emeralds or ripens into great sheaves of gold, or its plump grains
tempt you to satisfy hunger. It is the best friend man has, and it
would be very hard for him to live without it."
That was such a sensible answer, that the children all clapped their
hands with delight because they knew at once that it was correct. Just
then the Golden Hearted looked up and saw one of his best perfumers in
the group of wise men.
"Will you give us an answer to this question?" he asked.
"I should differ from all the others"--began the man.
"Never mind, tell us what in your line is the most perfect and
beautiful thing you know."
"A jasmine blossom," replied the perfumer, "because its delicate odor
cannot be imitated no matter what combination of oils or extracts we
make. I cannot say that of any other flower in the world."
The children could have answered that question themselves if they had
only thought quickly enough. They were quite familiar with the dainty
little white flowers and tender vine of the jasmine as well as its
sweet smell, because it grew wild in their country.
While the perfumer was talking, the Golden Hearted picked up a shining
pebble near his feet.
"Now, children," he said, "in this small rough stone I find something
perfect and beautiful. It is an opal, the only one of the precious
gems I do not know how to counterfeit. Join hands, as many of you as
can, and dance around me while I sing you a song about the birth of
the opal."
One of the wise men gave him a Sacred Tunkel, a kind of guitar which
he brought from the Temple of the Sun, and this was what he sang:
The Birth of the Opal
A dew drop came with a spark of flame
He had caught from the sun's last rays
To a violet's breast, where he lay at rest
Till the hours brought back the day.
The rose looked down with a blush and a frown
But she smiled all at once to view
Her own bright form with its coloring warm
Reflected back by the dew.
Then the stranger took a stolen look
At the sky so soft and blue,
And a leaflet green with its silver sheen
Was seen by the idler too.
A cold north wind, as he thus reclined,
Of a sudden raged around,
And a maiden fair, who was walking there
Next morning an opal found.
Some of the pupils were inclined to think that the singing of the
Golden Hearted was the most perfect and beautiful they had ever heard
and they all liked to listen to the low plaintive notes of the
Tunkel. Those that could not take part in the dance gathered around
their teachers and asked:
"What shall we do to honor the good prince and show him how much we
appreciate his efforts to amuse and please us?"
"Ask him to allow you to answer your own question," they said, "and
then tell him something about your feathered friends. Have you
forgotten the hermit of the woods with its rainbow plumes three feet
long and its gay scarlet breast?"
The name of this bird is the Quetzal, and it lives on the high
mountain tops all alone and is only about the size of a pigeon.
When the Golden Hearted finished singing and the dancers were all
standing still, a bright-faced boy approached and said, "We have an
answer to our own question, good prince."
"Say on, my little man, I am listening to you."
"It is the Quetzal, the rarest bird in the world, and the most perfect
and beautiful of all feathered creatures. With its brilliant luster
plumes I crown you Lord of the Sacred Tunkel, as a reward for your
sweet singing. May the children of every land know and love you as we
do."
The Golden Hearted was much surprised and pleased with his new crown
and ever after wore the feathers of the Quetzal in his head dress. So
long as he remained in Nachan, he was called the Lord of the Sacred
Tunkel because he could play so well upon this queerly-shaped guitar.
The Stars' Ball
It was not so very long after the children had crowned him Lord of the
Sacred Tunkel until the Golden Hearted planned to have them all with
him again. He made up his mind to spend his lifetime teaching because
he thought that was the most useful thing he could do, but he was
determined to make the lessons for the children as pleasant as
possible. He and the wise men taught the older people how to divide
the days into weeks, months and years, and how to make a calendar, and
all about the sun and the moon and the stars, but this was too hard
for the children. So he decided to take them up on the roof of the
Temple of the Sun in the moonlight and tell them some simple pretty
story about the sky at night.
In that country, the houses were built with flat roofs covered with
red tiles, and there was either a ladder or a winding staircase from
the ground, so it was not much trouble to get up on the roof. In fact,
many of the dwellings had beautiful potted plants up there, and it was
really a pleasant place to go of a warm summer evening. This night
there was not a breath of air, and the children did not need anything
on their heads nor any wraps. Only around the lower edges of the sky
were there clouds and these were soft and white like big piles of
cotton. The whole heavens looked like a bright blue veil thickly
sprinkled with diamonds. It was very still and quiet and there were so
many flowers in bloom that the very atmosphere was fragrant with them.
In the mill pond close by the frogs croaked, and around the eaves of
the houses the crickets and katydids were singing an evening hymn.
It was just a lovely night to go out and nearly every one was in the
street. The doors and windows were wide open, and the people went
about bareheaded and laughed and chatted to their heart's content.
"The goodness of this perfect night be upon my little friends," said
the prince, when he came up on the roof of the Temple and found a lot
of children he knew. "I have invited you to witness the stars' ball
to-night, but before we begin, I must introduce you to the most
prominent ones."
Then he pointed out the milky way with its millions of stars that
looked like little pin heads in a band of light because they were so
far away. Below the handle of the big dipper, and off to one side was
the north star. Jupiter with his broad dark bands and tiny moons was
there, and so was Saturn with his three rings. Over in another place
was Mars twinkling and batting his eyes as if he wanted to fight
something. The Dog Star was still lower down and quite by himself.
"I will first make you acquainted with the big-faced, silver moon,"
said the prince. "She is sailing along as if she were in a great
hurry, but there will be time enough for you to see the man up there
if you look sharp about it."
The children knew there was not a surely man in the moon so they all
laughed and clapped their hands and then threw kisses at the beautiful
queen of the night.
"I cannot show you Mercury, the messenger of the sun, because he is
such a sleepy head he has already gone to bed. He never stays up long
after the sun goes down, but he is an industrious little fellow and
often gets up first in the morning."
The children thought that was a very funny way to speak of a star, but
they saw the prince was in a good humor and they enjoyed listening to
what he said.
"Venus is our evening star," he continued, pointing to the brightest
object in the western sky, "and she is winking and smiling at us. Look
closely now, and see if you can find her."
[Illustration: "AN OLD-FASHIONED ALMANAC"]
When all the children had seen her, the Golden Hearted turned to
another part of the heavens and said, "Here is old Father Time, who
frowns and scowls, and finally grinds the life out of our bodies." He
was speaking about Saturn because it rolls and tumbles one way while
its three rings whirl around the other way, and all the people in
olden times believed that the stars could give good or bad luck and
could make our lives long or short. There were a number of this
kind of fortune tellers among the wise men, so of course the prince
knew what they thought about the stars. The children understood it
too, and when he pointed out Saturn, they said to each other in a
whisper, "It is the death star; let us hope it will not shine upon us
nor upon those we love."
"If we have need to fear the Master of Time, we have every reason to
love the broad-belted planet with its sturdy little companions. It has
been rightly named 'The Beneficent,'" said the prince--indicating the
position of Jupiter among the stars. "Its children pop in and out
behind it as if they were playing hide and seek."
For ages people thought that Jupiter gave them good luck and made them
wise, tender and kind. This is why the children said, "The big, white,
shining star has a heart like our prince."
Mars is the nearest planet to us, and he sputters and fumes as if he
really had as bad a temper as these people credited him with. All the
wars and troubles they had came from him, they said, and the children
did not care to look at him very long. He gives out a beautiful red
light, while Jupiter is bluish white, and the Dog Star has all colors
like the rainbow.
"Now," said the prince, "I will show you the most important group in
the sky. It is the Pleiades, directly over our heads at this time.
There are seven of these sisters, and the pale, dim one is the center
of the whole system of stars because all the rest of them circle
around her."
Then he explained to them how each star and planet, as well as the
earth, turns over and over of its own accord, besides going around the
sun in a very wide circle. All the stars are wonderful tumblers and
they spin around just like tops, and this whirling motion was what
made the prince say that they were having a ball. When they twinkled
and sparkled, he said they were dancing.
As soon as he sat down, one of the children got the Sacred Tunkel, and
then some took hold of his hands, others held on to his mantle and
still others put their arms around his neck and begged him to sing for
them. He did not wish to refuse them, but he did not know any song
suitable for the occasion so he made this up as he went along:
Oh! the stars one and all
They had a great ball
One night way up in the sky;
They invited the earth
To join in their mirth
But it feared to go up so high.
No fiddler had they
Their music to play,
And the stars were afraid 'twould fail;
But the man in the moon
He whistled a tune
And the comet kept time with his tail.
They danced and they danced,
And they pranced and they pranced,
Till the moon said 'twas all he desired,
For his lips were so sore
He could whistle no more,
And the comet began to get tired.
So they faded away
In the dim light of day
The moon and the stars from the ball.
But, sad to relate,
Next night they were late,
And came near not shining at all.
[Illustration]
The National Book
Because it is possible for persons to do both good and evil in their
lives, and to think good and bad thoughts, the wise men and the Golden
Hearted studied how to keep these ideas before the people all the
time. In those days, the natives of that country had no books and no
way of writing and it was necessary to select some familiar object to
represent the meaning of many things. Whatever is used for such a
purpose, is called a symbol.
The hippopotamus, the crocodile and the tapir are to this day said to
be symbols of humanity because they have two natures. They can live in
the water or on the land, and search for food either in the day or
night time. Of the three animals, the wise men selected the tapir
because it is a shy, inoffensive creature, not much larger than a
sheep and lives on green grasses and herbs. During the day it sleeps
quietly in the water or on the bank of a stream and at night comes on
land to get food. When its coat is dry, it is of a dark brown color,
but when wet, it is black and shining. A tapir looks very much like a
fat donkey except that its ears are not so long and its nose not quite
so stumpy. At Nachan the wise men raised great herds of them as an
example and illustration of our good and bad self.
The Golden Hearted realized that he must do more than found a large
city and teach the children, so he had a Dark House built away under
ground where he could store treasures and all the records of his
journey. This was a secret passageway, and in its halls and labyrinths
he had quantities of statuary and pottery put for safe keeping. While
this was being done, he wrote a book called in his language "The Popol
Vuh" but we would say it is a national book because it tells all about
the beginning of the world and is divided into four parts. It is a
most singular story, and has been translated so we can read it for
ourselves. It is said to be the oldest book in America, and the Golden
Hearted kept an order of wise men in the Dark House underground to
guard it from one generation to another.
The Popul Vuh
This is the beginning of the history of things which came to pass long
ago; of the division of the earth, the property of all; its origin and
its foundation, as well as the narrative of our life in the land of
shadows, and of how we saw the light. It is the first book written in
the olden times, but its view is hidden from him who sees and thinks.
Behold the first word and the first discourse. There was as yet no
man, nor any animal, nor bird, nor fish, nor crawfish, nor any pit,
nor any ravine, nor green herb, nor any tree.
Nothing was but the firmament.
The face of the earth had not yet appeared--only the peaceful sea and
all the space of heaven. There was nothing yet joined together,
nothing that clung to anything else; nothing that balanced itself,
that made the least rustling, that made a sound in the heaven. There
was nothing that stood up; nothing but silence and darkness and night
time.
Alone were those that engender, those that give being; they were upon
the waters like a growing light. They consulted together and
meditated; they mingled their words and their opinions.
"Earth!" they said, and on the instant it was formed; like a cloud of
fog was its beginning.
Then the mountains rose over the water like great lobsters. In an
instant the mountains and plains were visible and the cypress and the
pine trees appeared.
The Heart of Heaven cried out and said:
"Blessed be thy coming. Our work and our labor has accomplished its
end."
The earth and its vegetation having appeared, it was peopled with the
various forms of animal life. And the makers said to the animals,
"Speak now our name. Honor Him who begets and Him who gives
being. Speak, call on us, salute us."
[Illustration: "BEHOLD THE FIRST WORD"]
But the animals could not answer. They could only cluck and croak,
each murmuring after its kind in a different manner.
This displeased the creators, and they said to the animals:
"Inasmuch as ye cannot praise us, neither call upon our names, your
flesh shall be humiliated. It shall be broken with teeth. Ye shall be
killed and eaten."
The first man was made of clay, but he was watery, had no strength and
could not turn his head. His face looked one way all the time. He was
given a language, but he had no intelligence, so he was consumed in
water.
"Let us make an intelligent being who shall adore and invoke us," said
the Thunderbolt and the Lightning Flash.
It was decided that a man should be made of wood and a woman of a kind
of pith. They were made but the result was in no wise satisfactory.
They moved about perfectly well it is true; they increased and
multiplied and peopled the world with little wooden manikins like
themselves, but the heart and intelligence were wanting. They had no
memory of their Maker; they lived like the beasts and forgot the Heart
of Heaven. They had neither blood nor substance, nor moisture nor fat.
Their cheeks were shriveled; their feet and hands dried up.
Then was the Heart of Heaven very wroth, and he sent ruin and
destruction upon these ingrates. He rained upon them night and day
with a thick resin and the earth was all dark.
The men went mad with terror. They tried to mount up on the roofs, but
the houses fell with them. They tried to climb the trees, but the
trees shook them from their branches. They tried to hide in the caves
and dens of the earth, but these closed against them.
Then their heads were cut off, and their bones broken and bruised, and
their eyes picked out by the birds, and their flesh eaten by wild
beasts.
Thus were they all devoted to chastisement and destruction save only a
few who were preserved as memorials of the wooden men. These now exist
in the forests as little apes.
In the night the gods counseled together again. "Of what shall we make
man?" they said.
Then the Creator made four perfect men out of white and yellow corn.
The name of the first one was The Tiger With the Sweet Smile, the
second one was called The Tiger of the Night, the third one was The
Distinguished Name, and the fourth was The Tiger of the Moon. They had
neither father nor mother, but their coming into existence was a
miracle wrought by the special intervention of Him who is
pre-eminently the Creator.
At last were there found men worthy of their origin and their destiny.
Verily the gods looked on beings who could see with their eyes and
handle with their hands and understand with their hearts. Grand of
countenance and broad of limb, the four sires of our race stood up
under the white rays of the morning star.
Their great, clear eyes swept rapidly over all. They saw the woods,
the rocks, the lakes and the sea; the mountains and the valleys, and
they gazed up into heaven not knowing what they had come so far to do.
Their hearts were filled with love, obedience and fear. Lifting up
their eyes, they returned thanks saying:
"Hail! O Creator, Thou that lovest and understandest us! We offer up
our thanks. We have been created--abandon us not, forsake us not! Give
us descendants and a posterity as long as the light endures. Give us
to walk always in an open wood in a path without snares; to lead quiet
lives free of all reproach."
But the Gods were not wholly pleased with this thing. Heaven, they
thought, had overshot its mark. These men were too perfect; knew,
understood and saw too much.
"What shall we do with man now?" they said. "This that we see is not
good. Let us contract man's sight so he may see only a little of the
surface of the earth and be content."
Thereupon, the Heart of Heaven breathed a cloud over the pupils of the
eyes of the men, and a veil came over each eye as when one breathes on
the face of a mirror. Thus was the globe of the eye darkened, nor was
that which was far off clear to it any more.
Then they fell asleep and when they woke up, the gods had brought each
one of them a wife. They lived tranquilly together for a long time
waiting for the rising of the sun, because they had nothing but the
morning star for a light.
But no sun came, and the four men and their families grew uneasy.
"We have no one to watch over us, no one to guard our symbols," they
said. So they all set out for the Seven Caves.
Poor wanderers. They had a cruel way to go, many forests to penetrate,
many high mountains to climb, and a long passage to make through the
sea. Much hail and cold rain fell on their heads, and when their fires
all went out they suffered from hunger as well as cold.
At last they came to a mountain and here they rested. While there they
were told that the sun was coming very soon. Then they shook their
incense pans and danced for very gladness. As the sun commenced to
advance, the animals, great and small, were filled with delight. They
raised themselves to the surface of the waters, they fluttered in the
ravines, and gathering at the edge of the mountains, turned their
heads together toward that part from which the sun came.
The lion and the tiger roared, and the first bird that sang was the
Quetzal. All the animals were beside themselves at the sight. The
eagle and the kite beat their wings, and the men prostrated
themselves on the ground.
The sun and the moon and the stars were all established. Yet was not
the sun the same as now. His heat wanted force, and he was but as a
reflection in a mirror. Nevertheless he dried up and warmed the
surface of the earth and answered many good ends.
There was another wonder when the sun rose. The tribal gods who had
punished these poor people so were turned into stone. And so were all
the mammoth lions, tigers, vipers, and other fierce and dangerous
animals.
[Illustration: THE TAPIR]
Manco-Capac, the Powerful One
"It is time for us to go away from this place," said the wise men to
the Golden Hearted one day when they were finishing the Dark House,
where they were going to leave the National Book.
"Why do you think so?" asked the prince, laying down an axe made of
copper and tin which he was sharpening for one of the workmen.
"Because we have yet to find the spot where the gold wedge your
father, the king, gave you will sink into the earth of its own
accord."
"That is to be in the Place of Gold, and among the Children of the
Sun."
"Yes; and we are not far from the country known as the "Four Quarters
of the World" where they live. We must go to them at once, and there
we will build Cuzco, and make it the navel or center of all their
possessions. Under the name of Manco-Capac, the powerful one, you will
be the first Inca or ruler, and your banner will be a rainbow, to show
that you serve the Children of the Sun."
The Golden Hearted did not wish to become a ruler but he did not see
how he could refuse obedience to the faithful old wise men, so he
said:
"I will go with you and do as you say, but tell me how you intend to
build this wonderful city of Cuzco?"
"You must not feel that we compel you to go," said the wise men,
looking ready to cry, because they thought the young prince was not
pleased with them. "It was your father's command, and our promise to
him."
"I know that," said the prince impatiently, "but how are you going to
make Cuzco the center of everything?"
"By building the streets on the four points of the compass, and by
connecting it with royal roadways to the four corners of the kingdom.
We shall have no trouble doing so, for our reports say that the
natives are mild and gentle, and that there are stones in that country
as broad and long as a room."
When he and the wise men started to make the journey over the
mountains, they put all of their belongings on the backs of the
llamas--a kind of little camel not much larger than a sheep and which
is used in that country to-day for pack animals, instead of burros or
mules. They put the load on the llama's back without any girt or pack
saddle, and its long, bushy wool holds all the things in place. It has
a sharp-pointed, horny toe like a hook, which it fastens in the steep
rocks, and then it can climb over rough places without much trouble.
When a llama gets angry he does not spit like an ordinary camel, but
lies down like a stubborn mule. No matter what you do to him, he will
not budge an inch, and then the load has to be taken off, and he must
be coaxed and fed before he will go any farther.
One day the wise men and the Golden Hearted came to a wide rocky chasm
in the side of the mountain hundreds of feet deep, having a
swift-running river at the bottom. There were so many sharp rocks
sticking up and the water dashed over them so fast that it was all in
a white foam, and nothing could have swam across it. The native
servants and workmen did not know what to do.
"How are we to cross this deep canyon?" they asked.
"We will help you make a suspension bridge," said the wise men.
"But we have no tools"--they began.
"You have your two hands and some copper axes and that is sufficient."
"We can fell trees and bring stones, but there are not enough to span
such a dangerous place," they said, still doubtful about the outcome.
"Take your axes and cut all the maguey you can find," said the wise
men. "Bring it here and pile it up; then we will tell you what next to
do."
The wise men and the Golden Hearted made some heavy clubs out of the
hard wood they found growing near by. With these in a short time they
beat the maguey until its fibers fell apart in coarse strands, which
the sun dried. Then they helped the natives braid it into heavy, thick
ropes. When they got enough of these made, they wove them together
into a stout cable chain, long enough to stretch across the river.
"What shall we do with the ends?" asked the natives. "We cannot tie
them to a tree."
"Certainly not, but you can gather big and little stones for us,"
answered the wise men.
[Illustration: A SUSPENSION BRIDGE]
With these they built immense buttresses on the bank of the river,
wide at the bottom and narrow at the top so they would not tumble down
nor slip into the waters. Of course they had to leave holes in the
sides to fasten the cables into. It took several strands to make the
bridge wide enough, and even then the natives were afraid they would
fall into the water.
"We need a railing at each side," they said.
"Very well; make one out of the ropes," said the wise men. When this
was done the natives were still unwilling to try to go across.
"We cannot take a single step. Our feet get tangled in the meshes of
the cable."
"Overcome this by making some rough boards and laying them all the way
over."
It was indeed a novel suspension bridge, for when the planks were put
onto the cable it sagged in the middle and swayed forth and back in
the wind like a swing. Imagine how frightened the natives must have
been at first, but in that mountainous country they never build any
other kind of bridges and they use them now all of the time.
"In this open stretch of valley and plain we will plant sweet-smelling
trees and shrubs by the roadside so that travelers may be refreshed by
the shade and enjoy the perfume, and we will also teach the Children
of the Sun to build tambos or post houses," said the Golden Hearted,
when once they were over the mountains. This they did at every point
where they stopped to rest, and at each one they left a band of
chasquis, or runners in charge. The word chasqui means "one who makes
an exchange," and these men and boys not only carried the news like
our postmen and messengers, but they traded news with each other and
with every one else they met. Before allowing any of the runners to go
out the Golden Hearted said: "I will make you keepers of the Quippos,
or knotted cords. The red ones mean war, or other bad news, while the
white ones are for peace and prosperity. In the springtime if the
crops are good, you must carry bands of green cords. If you wish to
spread the reports of gold and silver use that kind of quippo, so that
the people seeing you far off may know the import of your message.
Count them always by tens and twenties, and use diligence and care to
be accurate and quick in your calculations."
This was a queer kind of arithmetic but it was astonishing how soon
the boys learned it. In after years there were bands of strolling
singers and poets who went about the country, and they used the
quippos to recall the things they wanted to remember, such as the
brave deeds of their ancestors and the names of their heroes. So long
as the inhabitants of this country were called Children of the Sun,
they had no other books and they trained young men to be experts in
reading them. The language of the Quippos is said to be very correct
and elegant.
The first thing the Golden Hearted did when he arrived at the end of
his journey was to divide the land into three parts--one for the sun,
one for the king and one for the people. Then he appointed beautiful
young girls to be Virgins of the Sun and placed them in charge of
elderly women, who taught them how to spin and weave the fine hair of
the vicuna into hangings for the Place of Gold which the wise men had
already commenced to build. The girls knew how to embroider
beautifully, and it was a part of their duty to keep the sacred fires
always burning on the altar. The Golden Hearted lighted the fire
himself, and it was kept burning night and day for hundreds of years.
In the Houses of the Virgins no man, not even the king, could go, and
if any one ever did, the people not only killed him but tore down his
house. When they did anything of this kind they called it "sowing the
ground with stones," and ever afterward his family and friends wore
mourning on account of the terrible disgrace.
The Place of Gold was a temple in the center of Cuzco so named because
the gold wedge sunk immediately into the ground when it was tried, and
the wise men said it was appropriate because "gold was the tears wept
by the sun." It is said that no building in the world was ever more
beautiful than this wonderful temple. The wise men and the Golden
Hearted did the best work they knew how, and there was plenty of gold
and precious stones in the mountains, so they could use as much as
they liked. In front of the eastern entrance was a huge sunburst made
like a human face, with rays of light starting out in every direction.
Each ray was thickly set with emeralds, and when the sun rose in the
morning, the reflection of the shining gold and the sparkle of the
emeralds lighted up the whole temple. Besides this they had burnished
plates and cornices and vases and animals and flowers of gold all
around the walls, and the water urns and incense pans were also of the
bright yellow metal.
"We will celebrate a great festival of Rami; the renewal time, when
the sun is coaxing the earth back to fertility; when the buds and
leaves are putting forth, and the birds are beginning to nest," said
the Golden Hearted, as soon as the temple was completed.
"Show the Children of the Sun that we honor the soil by turning the
first sod yourself," said the wise men, when told about the coming
celebration.
"I will," said the prince, who was now called Manco-Capac, and was the
ruler of the kingdom, "and the Virgins of the Sun shall drop the
seeds. Let every one come in holiday clothes and with songs and
dancing and feasting we will commemorate the day."
The next morning all the people came together to watch the sun rise.
The Virgins were dressed in white with wreaths of flowers on their
heads and every one wore ornaments and jewels and was as blithe and
gay as if he were going to a picnic.
[Illustration: "THE PEOPLE SHOUTED HAILLE HAILLE!"]
Just as the sun peeped up over the edge of the horizon and smiled
"good morning" to them, the Golden Hearted poured a libation on the
ground from a golden goblet, and the people all shouted "Haille!
Haille!" meaning triumph. The prince, the wise men and everybody faced
the risen sun with bared heads and bowed three times. Then the prince
said:
"Many think that the Sun is the Maker of all things. But he who makes
should abide by what he has done. Now many things happen when the sun
is absent; therefore he cannot be the universal creator. And that he
is alive at all is doubtful for his trips do not tire him. Were he a
living thing he would grow weary like ourselves. Were he free he would
visit other parts of the heavens. He is a tethered beast who makes a
daily round under the eye of the Master. He is like an arrow which
must go whither it is sent; not whither it wishes. I tell you that he,
our father and master, the Sun, must have a lord more powerful than
himself who constrains him to his daily circuit without pause or
rest."
The Golden Hearted spoke like this because he did not wish the
Children of the Sun to believe it was really their father or God
either.
All the assemblage took off their sandals and went into the Place of
Gold and prayed; then came out to the court yard and offered up
sacrifice of perfumes, fruits and flowers. When this was done they
hurried to the fields and after the Golden Hearted turned the first
sod every one else began to work. They had no plows, and those who did
not break the ground with a dull saber, dropped seeds all day long. As
the sun went down they laid aside their toil, and marched home
shouting and singing, because now they were going to have a feast,
with bonfires and dancing as late into the night as they wished.
Bochica and the Zipa
In the Cinnamon country not far from Cuzco lived the Muscas, a rich
and powerful nation who were less civilized than the Children of the
Sun and were so quarrelsome that they constantly disputed among
themselves. Finally the Zipa, or king, died and then there was great
danger of war breaking out between the different factions as to who
should be the new ruler.
At last the oldest son of the dead Zipa came to Cuzco to ask the
Golden Hearted to decide who should inherit the kingdom.
"This is a matter of grave moment," said he, "and I must warn you that
my time of ruling the Children of the Sun is near an end. Soon must I
go to build the temple of Guatavita, the Good Life, and then must I
leave this part of the world for another clime where much work awaits
me."
"Come to us and build the temple of Good Life, and I promise you that
both I and my brave Muscas shall be the guardians of your teachings.
You shall be a demi-god among us."
"I have no wish to be anything more than an elder brother to you and
your people," replied the Golden Hearted. "I am come from my home to
serve humanity and must go with you if you need me--not because you
wish to honor me."
The son of the Zipa then offered him many presents of gold, rich
cloth, and precious stones, but the Golden Hearted refused to accept
any of them. Finally the young man said:
"I am greatly disappointed, good prince, and have only this piece of
bark and a strange kind of fruit to offer you. The bark is royal in my
country because it cures the hated fever and is worthy your best
confidence. As to the fruit, taste it for yourself."
To his surprise the Golden Hearted and the wise men were much pleased
with the bark which we know to-day as Peruvian and from which quinine
is made, and the pineapple tastes as sweet to us as it did to the
Golden Hearted.
The son of the Zipa and his nobles conducted the wise men and the
Golden Hearted over one elevated table-land after another until they
came to one of the highest lakes in the world, where people can live,
and its name is Gautavita.
"These terraced mountain sides show that your example has been well
profited by the Children of the Sun," said the son of the Zipa, as
they trudged along the royal roadway leading from Cuzco to the
cinnamon country. "The instruction of the wise men in building canals
and aqueducts has turned this into a garden spot even though nature
intended it to be barren."
The Golden Hearted thought this would be a good opportunity to let his
new friend know that he did not approve of war, and that the adherents
of the Good Law, must not fight among themselves, so he said gently:
"All that you see before you is the working out of a fixed principle.
Universal kindness is the secret of our success. Treat the earth
gently and with consideration and she blesses you seven fold. Dig into
her bosom and she yields her choicest treasures, and the beasts and
birds respond to your affectionate touch. The heart of the man is the
same, my friend. The obedience and allegiance of your subjects must
come from the heart. If when I go among them they tell me they wish
you to be their Zipa then will I go to your opponent and persuade him
to relinquish his claim in your favor."
"And if he does not consent--"
"Then must you yield to him peaceably. I will not allow any blood shed
on either side."
The son of the Zipa knew by the firm tone of the Golden Hearted that
he meant what he said and his face turned a bright red, because he
thought his own selfish purpose was known to his guest. Down in his
heart he was planning to go into the capital city with a grand
flourish and pretend that the Children of the Sun had sent their ruler
and wise men to help him capture the throne. Now he knew very well he
would not dare do anything of the kind.
"But you do not know my people, good prince," he said. "They will
never obey a Zipa they do not fear."
"I am not familiar with the faces of your subjects, but I know the
heart of all mankind, and whether he be white or black, young or old,
the child of fortune or the opposite, he is amenable to the law of
love. Win his affection and he will serve you as faithfully and
obediently as a dog."
"I am afraid my turbulent warriors would not respect such a policy,"
replied the son of the Zipa, shaking his head.
"Remember in dealing with either man or animal that fear degrades
while love ennobles."
By this time they were coming in sight of the calm peaceful waters of
the lake stretched out like a sheet of glass before them.
"Water," said the Golden Hearted, "is like a pure mind--limpid and
clear. It permits us to look into its depths for hidden treasures, or
to see our own image reflected back from its surface. Let your heart
and mind be such a mirror, and trust your people to make the right
selection."
With this he laid his hand upon the shoulder of his young companion
and as their eyes met, the son of the Zipa felt certain that he had a
loyal and disinterested friend who would help him in the right way.
The next morning the prince and the wise men called the nobles and
warriors together, and listened patiently to all they had to say for
and against the two candidates. As he came into the audience chamber
the strange one scowled and frowned at the visitors, but to his
surprise the Golden Hearted took his hand and said:
"We have made a long, wearisome journey, my brother, in order to serve
your own and your state's best interest. Speak freely that we may be
able to judge fairly between the two."
"There is nothing to tell that my warriors do not already know," was
the curt reply. "I am able to crush opposition and to command respect
and obedience. I do not need your assistance, sir."
For a moment there was a look of pain on the face of the Golden
Hearted. Then he said gently:
"You, more than any one else need help, because you are unable to
govern yourself much less a rich and prosperous nation."
When it became known that the representatives of the Children of the
Sun would not compel the people to accept a Zipa they did not like,
they came out of their houses where they had been hidden all day for
fear of violence, and marched up and down the streets playing on shell
trumpets, gongs and kettle drums, and shouting the name of the oldest
son of the Zipa who was in due time crowned as the rightful heir to
the throne.
His first official act was to pierce the upper part of the ear of his
subjects and put in gold wheels of fine filigree work, as large around
as an orange. As he did so he said to each one:
"Swear by Him who gives and sustains life in the Universe, that you
will faithfully keep the Good Law brought to us from the sea, by
_Bochica, our deliverer_."
This was the name the Zipa gave the Golden Hearted, and as each man
passed by him he gave them a little cake made of corn meal, and
continued:
"To-morrow our good friends leave us for many days to come, but
Bochica will return again, and to show him that we will do his bidding
willingly let us take balsas or rafts with sails and go out on the
lake where he may see the intent of our minds reflected in the water.
Put wreaths of many colored flowers on the balsas, and carry with you
gold and emeralds which we will cast into the lake in token of our
pledge to him."
For hundreds of years afterwards, the Mucas and their descendants kept
this holiday as an anniversary of the departure of the prince and the
wise men. They knew that he was called the Golden Hearted in the Happy
Island, and every year they selected a young priest from the temple of
Gautavita, to impersonate him. After his bath the priest smeared
himself all over with a fragrant oil, and then his attendants blew
gold dust through reeds onto his body until he looked like a solid
statue. They put him in the center of the flower-laden raft, and with
chants and hymns rowed out on the lake and threw emeralds and gold
dust into it. The young men wore white shirts with a red cross on the
breast, and tied a red sash around their waists. On their heads were
crowns of flowers and evergreen leaves to show that their virtues
would continue as long as they lived, and that they were followers of
the teachings of the Golden Hearted. They were always hoping and
praying for his return.
We shall hear more of this ceremony and what came of it when we read
the story of the Gilded Man.
[Illustration: "THE FLOWER-LADEN BALSA"]
Song of Hiawatha
Ye who love the haunts of nature,
Love the sunshine of the meadow,
Love the shadow of the forest
Love the wind among the branches,
And the rain-shower and the snow-storm
And the rushing of great rivers
Through their palisades of pine trees,
And the thunder in the mountains
Whose innumerable echoes
Flap like eagles in their eyries;
Listen to these wild traditions,
To this song of Hiawatha!
Ye who love a nation's legends,
Love the ballads of a people,
That like voices from a far off
Call to us to pause and listen,
Speak in tones so plain and child-like,
Scarcely can the ear distinguish
Whether they are sung or spoken--
Listen to this Indian Legend,
To this song of Hiawatha!
Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple,
Who have faith in God and nature,
Who believe that in all ages
Every human heart is human,
That in even savage bosoms
There are longings, yearnings, strivings
For the good they comprehend not
That the feeble hands and helpless,
Groping blindly in the darkness,
Touch God's right hand in the darkness
And are lifted up and strengthened
Listen to this simple story
To this song of Hiawatha!
Ye, who sometimes in your rambles
Through the green lanes of the country,
Where the tangled barbary bushes
Hang their tufts of crimson berries
Over stone walls gray with mosses,
Pause by some neglected grave-yard
For a while to muse, and ponder
On a half-effaced inscription,
Written with little skill of song-craft,
Homely phrases, but each letter
Full of hope and yet of heart-break,
Full of all the tender pathos
Of the Here and the Hereafter--
Stay and read this rude inscription,
Read this song of Hiawatha!
--Henry W. Longfellow.
Michabo, the Great White Hare
Unless you know what river was called the "Father of Waters" it will
be a secret as to where the Golden Hearted and the wise men went when
they took leave of the Zipa. There are many quaint stories told about
this river, and also about the queer mounds and earthworks built by a
strange race of men who lived ages ago in that part of our country.
Their descendants are not very civilized and seem to have forgotten
much that their ancestors knew although they have some very pretty
ideas. For instance, they imagine that they hear voices in the growing
branches and whispering leaves of the trees, and they see little
vanishing men in the cliffs everywhere. They say that the Great Spirit
makes the Indian summer by puffing smoke out of his cheeks, from his
great peace pipe.
Before the Golden Hearted came they built a medicine lodge--a kind of
temple facing the sunrise, in a place called the "Moon of Leaves."
When it was finished, Wunzh, a youth of noble character and tender
heart, summoned the spirits of the four quarters of the world and the
day maker to come to his fire and disclose the hidden things of the
distance and future.
No one can tell why they named the Golden Hearted, "Michabo, the Great
White Hare," unless it was because he came in the time of the year
represented in their calendar by a rabbit. They kept a record of the
seasons by crude pictures drawn on the inside bark of trees, and with
them the months were called moons.
No one blames them for saying the wise men were jossakeeds or
prophets, because they really did look peculiar in their long robes,
beards and tall black hats, especially to men who had on buffalo robes
and feather head dresses.
Wunzh and his tribe received the Golden Hearted with solemn faces and
much respect when they heard that he came from the Four Quarters of
the World, which we know was the land of the Inca, very far south.
"Welcome, great white chief," they said, "come and sit by our council
fire. Our hearts have long been weary waiting for you."
When they were all seated Wunzh handed the Golden Hearted a peace pipe
shaped like a tomahawk filled with tobacco and already lighted. Not a
word was spoken until every one present had taken three whiffs out of
the pipe. Then the Golden Hearted said:
"I come to speak for my brothers, the fish, the animals, the creeping
things and the feathered messengers of the air. I often listen to
their complaints and they charge you with slaying them for food when
the grains and fruits would serve you better."
"We are not disdainful of the grapes and berries concealed in our
forests," replied Wunzh, "but we have no grain save rice and this must
be carried on our backs for many days. Our snows and chill winds kill
the plant before its seeds appear."
"Whatever the reason may be you will never do any real good in the
world until you learn how to fast days at a time and can live without
eating so much flesh. Even your vaunted skill with bow and arrow is
not genuine. I am a better shot."
The wise men were alarmed for a moment fearing that Wunzh would be
angry and that his followers would be offended also. Besides they had
never heard the Golden Hearted speak boastfully before, and they were
puzzled to know what would happen next.
"I am willing to try the bow with my friend," said Wunzh, with a flash
of the eye and a toss of the head, which showed that he was vain and
had an uncertain temper.
"When will it suit you to make the contest," quietly asked the Golden
Hearted, as he arose and turned to leave the council fire.
"To-morrow's sun," answered Wunzh, haughtily, "and when it is so
high," indicating a space in the sky that would make it quite early in
the morning.
"Let it take place in the large square surrounded by your lodges,"
said the Golden Hearted, carelessly as he walked toward the one
assigned for his use.
To the wise men he said:
"Leave me for a little time, I wish to be alone."
They wondered what he could mean by such language and such actions. It
was evident that he did not intend to make any explanation to them, so
they could only wait to see what the outcome would be.
Once inside the tent the Golden Hearted began to work on a plaited
disc of straw. As soon as it was finished, he drew rings of red, blue,
black and white all around the big yellow center, and was propping it
up to dry when Wunzh appeared at the door of the lodge.
"I have come to show you the center pole where you may hang up the
target, and we will then step off the distance between the different
shooting stations," he said. "The rule requires each of us to speed
two dozen arrows from the nearest point, twice that many from the
middle ground, and seventy-two from the outside post."
While in the Happy Island, the prince had learned all about the use of
the bow and arrow, but this was the first time he had an opportunity
to show his skill, and the wise men were anxious that he should not
fail, because they knew that the friends of Wunzh would not have much
respect for him if he did. They could not understand how he could be
so smiling and unconcerned.
The fame of Wunzh as a bowman was known far and wide and the
descendants of the Mound Builders were certain he would win. At
daybreak the next morning there was a solid line of warriors around
the ring where the trial was to be made, and they were as motionless
and stolid looking as if they had been carved out of wood. No one
could tell by their faces what they were thinking and they would not
have turned their heads for anything. Some of them made a kind of
music on a tom-tom or Indian drum and Wunzh and the Golden Hearted
marched in step like soldiers, and smiled and bowed to everybody as
they came into the ring. The Golden Hearted knew all the time that he
was the doubtful one, and just for a moment he glanced at the anxious
faces of the wise men. Though not sure in their hearts they nodded
encouragingly and before he had touched a bow every eye in the crowd
was upon him.
The keepers of the bows and arrows were very fair minded, and were
careful to see there were no knots or gnarls or cracks in the waxy
brown hunting bow made of straight grained mulberry wood. The one to
be used was six feet long and its tips were of polished elk horn, and
there was a buckskin handhold in the center. The hickory arrows were
as smooth as glass with very sharp saw-teeth edges on the flint heads.
Around the notch end there were three vanes of eagle feathers.
The descendants of the Mound Builders were courteous enough to give
their guest the first shot. As the Golden Hearted pulled a buckskin
shield over his right hand he looked up at the wise men, and his eyes
said:
"Trust me! I shall not fail."
Then he stooped quickly and raised the bow from the ground and placed
it against his knee cap to get a good purchase. With an upward body
movement he drew the long bow as far as he could, faced the painted
disc target and let fly. Like the arrow that sped so swiftly that it
caught fire as it flew, this one sang through the air and imbedded
itself in the blue ring where it rocked and shook violently.
"The Great White Hare has won five points!" shouted the tally keepers
in the Judge's corner.
"What skill!" said one pointing to the still quivering arrow. "What
strength!" said another, while the wise men began to feel very proud
indeed.
It was such hard work that the face of Golden Hearted was flushed but
he shut his teeth together hard, and was determined to make a still
better effort.
His second shot sent the arrow into the red ring nearly opposite the
blue, and this scored him seven points.
"There is fine aiming!" said the judges to each other, while the other
people leaned over in their seats and watched intently.
There was just a shadow of a smile on the lips of the Golden Hearted,
as he made ready for the final shot from the first station.
"Ping!" and the third arrow fairly whistled as it hit the exact center
of the yellow spot.
Instantly the whole crowd were on their feet, all talking at once and
making so much noise that the tally keepers could not be heard.
"Five--seven--nine are the points; twenty-one for final score," they
shouted.
The Golden Hearted flung down his bow and stepped to one side to make
room for Wunzh. He stood wiping the perspiration off his forehead and
was pleased because he saw that every one felt kindly toward him.
"Now the jossakeeds will learn how to shoot!" exclaimed the men who
had backed Wunzh.
"He will never equal the first score," said others who were skillful
with a bow and arrow themselves and knew how hard it was to make such
fine shots.
Wunzh sent his first arrow with a vim and energy that showed he had
been in constant practice, but all three of his darts sped feebly and
barely indented the black ring.
"The jossakeeds hold the first station," announced the judges. "Move
on to the next one."
Now came the real test of skill, and every man was interested because
they all made use of the bow and arrow, in hunting and in war, and had
no other kind of weapon except a knife. Hundreds of the spectators
left their seats and crowded around the contestants.
The heavy hunting bow was laid aside now and one made of elastic but
tough yew was substituted. The arrows had finely-pointed obsidian
heads, matched and smooth but sharp as a needle.
The Golden Hearted was careful to see that the yew was properly
seasoned and when satisfied, he placed the arrow on the left side of
the bow with its notch set on the string. He drew the string back to
just below the chin, aimed over the arrow tip and let fly.
The spectators were quick to see that his aim, draw, finish and loose
was perfect even in speeding the arrows so fast they could scarcely be
seen. When shooting three at a time he drove all of them into the
yellow center within a quarter of an inch of each other!
The friends of Wunzh shouted and screamed:
"It is not fair! He uses too many arrows. Give us justice!" until the
judges were compelled to order the warriors to drive the crowd back
again with the points of their spears.
In the noise, confusion and excitement every one forgot the birds
perched on a cross bar at the top of the pole supporting the target.
There was a blue jay, a raven, a white dove and a green parrot. Each
had a string attached to one leg. Now of course they remembered and
crowded around to hear what the judges would say.
"Will the prince of the jossakeeds take a shot at the birds before
being crowned with the Yew wreath of valor?"
As soon as the Golden Hearted could make himself heard he said:
"I am willing to comply with your request, but I hope I shall not hurt
any of the birds."
"The parrot shall cry your aim, and must remain unharmed. You may kill
the blue or the black bird, but you must release the peaceful dove
uninjured. Will you remember these conditions?"
The Golden Hearted came within range and waited for a favorable
opportunity. By a sudden jerk of the cord coming down the side of the
pole the cross bar was set to whirling rapidly and this frightened the
birds until they tried to fly away. The parrot was chained fast and to
make the aim more difficult, the other birds were fastened by strings
of different lengths. The marksman must free each one of them and then
hit it before it could escape. The first liberated was the blue jay.
The Golden Hearted cut the cord neatly and wounded the bird while it
was still rising. The arrow fell near the base of the pole bringing
the right wing with it.
This won him the wreath, and he now turned to the wise men for a
signal. They could demand the last three shots. Would they do it? He
inclined his head toward them as one of the number picked up a black
flag and waved it. There was an answering shout and a cheer, and the
Golden Hearted prepared to shoot again. This time he aimed at the
raven and cut the string near the pole. Its weight caused the captive
to fly in an oblique line downward for a moment. Quick as a flash the
second arrow sped and the raven fell to the ground pierced through the
heart! Without looking to see what had happened the Golden Hearted
shot at the dove and as it flew up in a circle everybody saw that it
was unharmed.
[Illustration: "THE HOUSE OF WUNZH"]
Then they fought and struggled with each other for the privilege of
carrying the victor off the grounds, but the Golden Hearted escaped
through a side door and ran away as fast as he could. He did not wish
to speak to any one nor have them see how unhappy he felt. He really
was heartbroken because he had killed the raven.
The Birth of Corn
Wunzh was greatly disturbed and downcast over his defeat because he
thought the Great Spirit had sent the Golden Hearted in answer to his
supplications, and he now felt certain that he was in disfavor. He lay
awake all night thinking what he could do to win a token of good will
from the Great Spirit. He knew better than to ask anything for
himself, but begged and implored that it should be something for the
benefit of his tribe.
"Michabo says I eat too much flesh, and that I must learn to fast
before any good will come to me," he said over and over to himself.
"He shall see that I know how to obey even if my arrows do go wide of
the mark." There was a great lump in his throat and to tell the truth
there were a few tears trickling down his cheeks, but he brushed them
away quickly as he rose to his feet and shook out the buffalo robes
which had answered for his bed.
"I will go to a secret place in the forest and build me a lodge, and
there I will stay and fast until the Great Spirit grants my wish."
He told no one of his intention and was gone several days before he
was missed at the council fires where the wise men were instructing
the medicine men in the use of a wampum belt made of different colored
beads. The colors were the same as the Quippos and the counting with
them was done in the same manner. While the women were weaving a very
handsome wampum belt to be used as a council brand of authority, the
wise men helped build a Long House in the center of the confederation
of tribes to put it in. Then they ordered four other Long Houses built
on the north, east, south and west corners of the country, so that the
runners would have some place to stay when they started with the
wampum belt to let the outside tribes know the will of the council.
The Golden Hearted did not seem to take any interest in this work at
all, but went among the people playing all kinds of pranks. Sometimes
he frightened them nearly to death, and then again he would set them
into roars of laughter by the funny things he did. He invented so many
tricks and was so full of mischief that every one was on the lookout
and attributed all the happenings they could not account for in any
other way to him whether he did them or not.
"What has become of Wunzh? Has anybody seen him?" began to be constant
queries, and his family looked very sad indeed. The Golden Hearted
knew where he was and that he was fasting, so he waited until
nightfall and then dressed himself in rich garments of green and
yellow shading into light and dark tints. Putting on his crown with
the long green Quetzal plumes he slipped off into the woods to find
Wunzh. Approaching the lodge he said:
"I am sent to you, my friend, by that Great Spirit who made all things
in the sky and on the earth. He has seen and known your motives in the
fasting. He sees that it is from a kind and benevolent wish to do good
to your people and to procure a benefit for them and not for strength
in war or the praise of warriors. I come to show you how to do your
kindred good, but you must rise and wrestle with me."
Wunzh knew that he was weak from fasting, but felt his courage rising
in his heart, and he got up immediately determined to die rather than
fail.
He instantly clinched with the Golden Hearted and wrestled with him
until nearly exhausted.
"My friend, this is enough for to-day. I will come again to try you
to-morrow at the same hour."
The Golden Hearted came dressed in the same fashion and wrestled with
Wunzh for three successive evenings. Each day the faster's strength
grew less and less, but he was more determined than ever.
[Illustration: THE WRESTLING MATCH]
"To-morrow will be your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for
this is the only way you can overcome me and obtain the boon you
seek."
The next day the poor youth exerted his utmost power and after awhile
the Golden Hearted ceased wrestling.
"I am conquered," he said, and went into the lodge and began to teach
Wunzh. "You have wrestled manfully and have fasted seven days. Now you
must strip off my clothing and throw me down. Clean the earth of roots
and reeds; make it soft and bury these garments here. When you have
done this be careful never to let the grass grow over the spot. Once a
month cover it with fresh earth. If you follow these instructions you
will do great good to your fellow creatures."
In the morning the father of Wunzh came with some slight refreshments,
saying:
"My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit intends to
favor you he will do it now. It is seven days since you tasted food
and you must not sacrifice your health. That the Master of Life does
not require of you."
"Wait, father, until the sun goes down. I have a particular reason for
extending my fast until that hour."
"Very well," said the father, kindly. "I will wait until you feel
inclined to eat."
Even though he was hungry the young man felt strangely renewed and
strengthened and when it was night he was ready to wrestle with the
Golden Hearted again. When he thought he had killed the prince he
took off his garments and plumes and buried them as he had been told
to do. Afterwards he returned to his father's lodge and partook
sparingly of food, but he never for a moment forgot the new-made
grave.
Because he was so full of pranks and tricks, the descendants of the
Mound Builders saw something mysterious and strange in everything the
Golden Hearted did, and when he built a boat to go down the great
river in, they said it was a magic canoe and expected almost anything
to happen. However before he and the wise men went away, they made him
the father and guardian of their nation, and they have considered him
as such ever since.
Weeks went by and the summer was drawing to a close when Wunzh
returned after a long absence in hunting. Going to his father he
invited him to come to the quiet lonesome spot where he had fasted so
long. There in a circle freed from weeds stood a tall graceful plant
with bright colored silken hair surmounted by nodding plumes,
luxuriant green leaves and clusters of golden grain on each side.
"It is my friend, and the friend of all mankind. It is Mondamin, the
spirit of corn. We need no longer rely on hunting alone for so long as
this gift is cherished and taken care of the ground itself will give
us a living. See, my father," said Wunzh, pulling off an ear, "this is
what I fasted for. This is why Michabo put me through so many trials.
But the Great Spirit has listened to my voice and sent us something
new. Our people need no longer depend upon the chase and the water for
food."
Then he told his father how he had wrestled with the Golden Hearted,
and how he had torn off his garments.
"He said I was to treat the ear in the same manner, and when it was
stripped I must hold it to the fire until the outer skin becomes brown
while all the milk is retained in the grain."
The whole family of Wunzh joined in a feast on the roasted ears, and
were very grateful for such a rich blessing. And this is the way the
Indians say corn came into the world.
We learned its use from them, and also to hold the old-fashioned
husking bees where all the young people got together and pulled off
the husks after the ripe ears of corn had been gathered into the barn.
It was always great fun, especially when they found red ears, but let
us see what the Indians used to say about it:
Then Nokomis, the old woman,
Spake and said to Minnehaha:
"'Tis the moon when leaves are falling
All the wild rice has been gathered
And the maize is ripe and ready;
Let us gather in the harvest,
Let us wrestle with Mondamin,
Strip him of his plumes and tassels,
Of his garments green and yellow."
And the merry Laughing Water
Went rejoicing from the wigwam,
With Nokomis old and wrinkled,
And they called the women round them,
Called the young men and the maidens,
To the harvest of the cornfields,
To the husking of the maize ear.
On the border of the forest,
Underneath the fragrant pine-trees,
Sat the old man and the warriors
Smoking in the pleasant shadow
In uninterrupted silence
Looked they at the gamesome labor
Of the young men and the women;
Listened to their noisy talking,
To their laughter and their singing
Heard them chattering like the magpies,
Heard them laughing like the blue-jays,
Heard them singing like the robins.
And whene'er some lucky maiden
Found a red ear in the husking
Found a maize-ear red as blood is,
"Nuska!" cried they all together,
"Nuska! you shall have a sweetheart,
You shall have a handsome husband!"
"Ugh!" the old men all responded
From their seats behind the pine-trees.
And whene'er a youth or maiden
Found a crooked ear in husking,
Found a maize-ear in the husking
Blighted, mildewed or misshapen,
Then they laughed and sang together,
Crept and limped about the cornfields,
Mimicked in their gait and gestures
Some old man bent almost double,
Singing singly or together
Till the cornfields rang with laughter,
"Ugh!" the old men all responded,
From their seats behind the pine-trees.
The Indians have many pretty stories about the birth of corn. When the
two little slender green leaves come up through the ground they say
that it is the long green plumes of the crown buried by Wunzh and when
it is ready for harvest they think the green and gold of the leaves
and grain are the rest of the garments turned into a plant. They say
that if you stand near a cornfield in the moonlight you can hear
Mondamin, the corn spirit, murmuring and complaining of the way we
treat him to the wind, the stars, and the little insects hidden in the
glossy leaves and silken tassels.
[Illustration]
The Wrathy Chieftain
After sailing down the great river for many days the Golden Hearted
and the wise men came into a trackless waste with no means of finding
their way out except by watching where the sun rose and shooting an
arrow ahead of them. This was very slow work and they all grew quite
discouraged over it.
"It is altogether too bad that for fear of getting lost we must halt
each time and speed another arrow before we overtake the last one,"
said the Golden Hearted one day when they were nearly worn out with
the heat and dust of a country not much better than a desert. "I have
a feeling," he continued, "that we will not be well treated by the
people we find here. I do so wish we might come to the cactus and the
rock with a serpent at its base where my father commanded me to found
a city in honor of the sun."
"We are going in the right direction," answered the wise men, "but the
end of our search is not yet."
"And much as my heart yearns for the Happy Island I will not return to
my father until all his wishes have been fulfilled."
Through the murky gray clouds the stars did not make much light, and
there was only a thin crescent moon, which gave a sense of utter
loneliness to the Golden Hearted when he went to bed that night. The
coyotes all around him howled and that made it worse, but he finally
fell asleep. By and by he was awakened by a cold, wet nose touching
his hand, and when he raised up on his elbow to see what it was, there
stood a coyote. They are not very dangerous animals but they are
sneaking and treacherous. Now we know that the Golden Hearted was
gentle and kind to all creatures, and the coyote must have known it
too, for it rubbed its head on his hand and did not seem in the least
afraid.
"Come, my good fellow, let us be friends," said the Golden Hearted. "I
will not hurt you, and you can guide me to my brethren. I have never
seen their faces, but wish very much to find them."
The coyote wrinkled up his nose and made a funny little sneezing sound
as if he were talking, and he wagged his tail as friendly as a dog.
Maybe he did not understand what was said to him, but anyhow he felt
safe enough to lie down close to his new friend and go sound asleep.
When the wise men saw him the next morning, they said:
"It is a good omen and means that we shall soon come to a stopping
place where strange events will happen."
This put the Golden Hearted into a better humor because he felt less
doubtful and discouraged and he was much interested in the antics of
the sagacious little companion that trudged by his side all day long.
The coyote was enterprising enough to kill as many birds as it needed
for food, without going far out of the way and was not a whit of
trouble to anybody. There was not a tree nor a shrub to hide the
nakedness of the dusty plains, nor was it possible to rest with any
comfort until after the sun went down.
All of a sudden the coyote stopped short, pricked up its ears and
listened intently.
"Yelp! yelp! yelp!" was what the Golden Hearted heard, and it sounded
as if there were hundreds of young puppies everywhere. Looking closely
he discovered little heaps of earth with a smooth-headed animal
sitting on all fours beside it and yelping a protest to being
disturbed. They were right in the midst of a village of prairie dogs,
which are about the size of a jack-rabbit, but not nearly so
destructive.
"Come and see what I have found," called out the Golden Hearted to the
wise men who were coming up behind him. At the sound of his voice the
prairie dogs gave a quick, short yelp, their heels twinkled in the air
for a second, and they fairly turned a somersault diving into their
holes. By the time the wise men were ready to look there was not a
whisker of an inhabitant to be seen.
"What is it?" they said, "Where! we do not see anything."
"Watch these fresh piles of dirt, and you will see something come out
of them," said the Golden Hearted.
"Yes;" said one, "there are some rattlesnakes."
"And here are some owls," said another. "Is it possible that you have
never seen these creatures before?" and the wise men laughed at the
Golden Hearted and thought they had a good joke on him.
"Let us keep quiet for a while. I tell you there is something else in
those burrows besides snakes and owls," he insisted seriously.
Not hearing any more noise, one after another of the little prairie
dogs put its head up out of the hole, and then stole forth cautiously
to talk the matter over with its next door neighbor. There were
regular beaten pathways or lanes from one burrow to another and they
were evidently on very friendly footing with each other.
"These are indeed curious little animals," said the wise men, now much
interested. "They not only live in communities, but keep the peace
with their brothers, the snake and the owl. There is certainly no
greater source of knowledge than the book of nature. Here God puts
before us the thing He wishes us to learn."
At the very first words of the wise men the prairie dogs scampered
back into their holes; and before they showed themselves again a party
of husbandmen came along on their way to a harvest field which they
said was a day's journey ahead.
"Why do you linger in this desert?" they asked of the Golden Hearted.
"There are habitations farther on where the earth is watered."
"We are seeking those who need our assistance and must only tarry
where we are welcome," he answered.
"Then come to our commune. We have no one to show us how to heal the
sick nor to coax fertility out of this barren soil," they said. "If
you will go, we will remain for the night and lead the way."
So it was arranged and to everybody's comfort and joy it began to rain
shortly after and then the air was much more cool and pleasant.
The little prairie dogs were not so well pleased with this
arrangement. They stuck their noses up into the moist air and whined
and yelped half of the night. There can be no doubt that they were
holding an indignation meeting, and were having a noisy and windy
debate. May be they were comparing notes about the tall hats and veils
of the wise men, or they may not have thought their long beards
becoming. Or who shall say that they were not in their own peculiar
fashion devising plans for safety, and to vindicate their
offended dignity? They may have objected seriously to having strange
men intruding upon their privacy, and it must not be considered a
reflection on their courage because they scampered out of sight at the
sound of a human voice. It was quite enough to frighten inoffensive
little animals like these.
[Illustration: "THE WRATHY CHIEFTAIN"]
It is said that Katzimo, the enchanted Mesa, was the first
stopping-place of the Golden Hearted, and it is certain that the wise
men taught the husbandmen in that part of the world how to make
irrigating ditches and canals all through their inhospitable country,
because there are many remains of these waterways still to be seen.
Some say, too, that these people got the idea of living in pueblos or
villages from studying the habits of the prairie dogs and to this day
the coyote is thought to be a good friend by the descendants of these
ancient husbandmen.
"The hunters are angry with you for teaching the tillers of the soil
how to make the land fertile without making it easier for the men of
the chase to get food for themselves and families," said an old woman
to the Golden Hearted, one day as he stood watching her make a water
jar of clay. She would not have spoken had he not shown her how to
make a pretty design and also how to ornament it differently from
anything she had seen before.
"I am willing to teach them to weave blankets and baskets," he
replied. "The Good Law spares the life of every creature and forbids
our eating its flesh for food. The hunters should give up the chase
and fighting."
"They say that only women should do these things," said the old
pottery maker, "and they disdain to carry the rocks and mud to make
our dwellings."
"In this they are wrong," said the Golden Hearted, kindly, as he
turned to greet some of the wise men. "We must hasten our task for
already is discontent showing itself among the tribes," he said to
them.
"We must kindle the sacred fires and build the temple at once," they
said. "We have heard murmurings and complaints of late and know your
words are true."
As soon as possible they began the work of construction of what is now
known as the Casa Grande long since in ruins, of which we shall hear
more in the story of the Kingdom of Quivera. The wise men kindled and
guarded the sacred fires, and when leaving appointed warriors to take
turns in watching them.
"You must serve for two successive days and live during that time
without food, drink or sleep," they said, and that mandate has been
kept to this day. In the meantime the Golden Hearted busied himself
with teaching them the use of herbs and plants for medicine and had
them go into estufas or sweat houses when they were ill or wished to
purify themselves of a sin or fault.
Tradition says that the hunters lured the Golden Hearted away from
his comrades and tried to kill him, and that they threw the wise men
over the edge of the cliff, but it has been so long ago that no one
can remember what it was they did that wounded and hurt him. One day
he planted a tree upside down and calling all the people about him
said:
"Many, many years from now a strange nation will oppress you, and
there will be no more rain. I charge you to guard the sacred fires
well until the tree I have planted falls. Then I will come back and
bring a white race that will overcome your enemies. After that the
rain will fall, and the earth will be fertile again."
[Illustration: THE POTTERY MAKER]
The simple, frugal husbandmen and weavers are still looking for his
return and they believe he will descend from the sky by the columns
of smoke they guard. It has been so long ago that they think he lives
in the sun now, and build their houses with an opening to the east
which is never closed.
"We do this that he may find a welcome when he comes," they say.
Once every fifty years they put out all the sacred fires and go up on
the high mountain tops just before dawn, and wail and mourn and break
pottery, imploring the shining orb to bring back him
"Who dwelt up in the yellow sun
And sorrowing for man's despair
Slid by his trailing yellow hair
To earth to rule, by love and bring
The blessedness of peace."
[Illustration]
The Plumed Serpent, Quetzalcoatl
Far as the eye could reach stretched the beautiful valley of Anahuac,
where the air was sweet with the breath of flowers, and the earth
seemed to melt perfectly into the sky.
"Oh! that mine eyes should see the splendor of this vision," said
Mexi, the oldest of the wise men and the most learned, clasping his
hands in rapture. "Oh! that I have been spared to see the fruition of
thy will, great king and brother. Now may I go hence in peace."
As he ceased speaking he tottered and would have fallen had not one of
the tamanes or porters, seated on mats under the shade of a giant oak,
hastily risen, and caught him as his head fell forward on his bosom.
"The elements have undone thee," cried the Golden Hearted, kneeling
hurriedly by his side and supporting the drooping head on his knee.
"Thou art sadly in need of rest," he continued, alarmed at the pallor
overspreading Mexi's finely wrinkled face.
The old man pushed the thin white locks of hair off his forehead, let
the mantle slip back from his throat, and seemed to breathe easier.
"I am come to my final rest," he replied with a feeble smile. "It is
not given me to enter the promised land."
The tawny, broad-shouldered, half-clad tamanes, laid down the thin
cakes of ground corn they were eating and came near to the stricken
old man, while the other wise men took off their hats and listened
with bowed heads to what their comrade and leader said. They had
stopped to rest and refresh themselves with food under the cool
inviting shade of the trees where they could listen to the murmur of
waterfalls, and feast, the eyes on the landscape surrounding them.
"There!" said Mexi, attracted by the buzzing of tiny wings, "is the
green-throated humming-bird thou wert to follow as thy guide to the
spot where a city is to be built in honor of the sun."
The Golden Hearted held up his hand with the forefinger extended and
in a moment the little humming-bird lighted on it and looked at him
curiously, as though obeying the will of some one. He did not touch it
nor attempt to move for a few moments. Then he said:
"Little brother, spend the remainder of thy days with me. I need thee
sorely, and have long waited for thy guidance."
In the meantime the wise men had given Mexi a cup of chocolate, not in
a thin liquid like we know it, but thick like a cold custard, and with
whipped goat's cream on top.
[Illustration: "THE HUMMING-BIRD ALIGHTED ON HIS FINGER"]
"Thou art kind," he said growing weaker and more faint all the
time, "to try to prolong a life already spent." Turning his eyes
toward the Golden Hearted he continued: "Lying next my heart thou wilt
find a bundle of mystery. Carry it without opening until the time of
thy departure from this strange land is at hand. Open then and thou
wilt find directions for thy special work."
He did not speak again and when they tried to rouse him there was a
smile of infinite peace on his face, but nothing save the lifeless
body was before them. The gentle, sweet spirit of the old man had gone
back to God.
"We will neither weep nor mourn for him," said the wise men to the
Golden Hearted. "It would not be his wish, and we will show our love
by obeying him."
And so they left him sleeping in a dell of ferns and mosses, in sight
of Anahuac, the land by the side of water, as its name indicates, and
continued their journey southward.
On the way the wise men found a little creature, looking like a black
currant with neither head, legs nor tail, so far as they could see. It
is fat and dark and round, but if you squeeze him his blood is a
brighter color than currant juice, and much more valuable because we
get cochineal red of one, and currant jelly from the other. It was in
the valley of Anahuac that the cochineal bug was first found, and it
lives on the leaves of the prickly pear, or tuna cactus--the common
kind with leaves shaped like a ham, and covered with long sharp
needles.
The young cochineal bugs are so stupid that they must be tied on the
leaves of the prickly pear to keep them from falling off and starving.
In this way, too, they keep dry and warm in winter, but as soon as
they are grown they are ruthlessly shaken to death and dried in the
sun. Then the queer, shriveled dead bugs are put up in bags and sold.
"In the hot lands far to the south, the woods are full of rare orchids
and other gems of the flower kingdom," said the Golden Hearted one day
after a search for plants by the wayside, "but the vanilla bean is the
only one fit for food. It will be well worth our while to study this
strange branch of husbandry as soon as possible."
It was a long time before they came to a place near the seashore where
a number of women were picking the ripe pods from vanilla vines which
overran the trees and shrubs completely. The younger women had on
bright-colored petticoats and gay scarfs over their long black hair,
and they were storing the bean pods in wide-mouthed baskets strapped
across their foreheads.
"What next do you do with these pods?" he asked of a young girl
passing him with a full basket.
"We carefully assort them and then plunge the packages into hot water,
before laying them out on mats to drain. For a week the beans are
exposed to the heat of the sun, laid between woolen blankets. After
this we pack them in ollas and keep them warm so as to promote
fermentation while drying. This makes them soft, pliable, free from
moisture, and of a dark chocolate color thickly frosted with
needle-like crystals of acid."
And to this day if you buy vanilla beans they come in packages wrapped
in silver foil, and have a delicious odor.
The bean is from six to nine inches long, and must be ground fine
before it can be used in making the chocolate we are all so fond of,
but it is dried and packed in the same manner as that described to the
Golden Hearted.
It was not many days after leaving the wooded plains, that the
travelers came in sight of four beautiful lakes with the frowning
cliffs of Chapultepec outlined against the sky. Always on the alert
for a sign the wise men said to each other in awe-stricken whispers:
"We must be near the place."
"Do you not see the rock with the flowering cactus!"
"And an eagle circling in the air with a serpent in its claws!"
"Oh! thou seen and unseen powers! search our hearts that thou mayst
know all our gratitude," cried the Golden Hearted, falling on his
knees and then prostrating himself on the ground, as did all the wise
men.
"I am Guatamo," said a voice, and when the Golden Hearted looked up, a
man old as Mexi stood blessing him. "Rise and receive word from thy
father, the king from whom I am come. Fear me not; these hands have
guided thy baby footsteps. Now must thou lend ear to my counsel."
The Golden Hearted was overjoyed to see some one from his father's
court, and also glad to know that his wanderings in search of the
place to honor the sun was over.
"This is not a promising outlook," said Guatamo, "but in the parchment
scroll thou wilt find ample instructions to drain and render this a
garden spot of exceeding loveliness. Hasten thy task since thy father
is no longer living, and thy native land longs to see thee again."
Acting upon this advice the Golden Hearted and the wise men set to
work at once to build the city, and to teach the willing natives to
cultivate the land, and to make handsome mosaics out of the
bright-colored feathers of the birds found in the forests in such
numbers. Of course the birds were not killed to get their feathers,
but in the royal gardens there were thousands of them kept during the
moulting season, and then the feathers were picked up and assorted for
use. Not only could they make perfect representations of birds and
animals with them, but whole landscape scenes, including mountains,
sea and sky. When finished it was necessary to touch them to know that
feathers instead of paint had been used.
"The Nahuas have come from Aztlan, the white country, and must be
obeyed," was the word carried from one tribe to the other by the
runners, and the wise men could only smile when they heard themselves
called Nahuas, or wizards. The simple natives thought them capable of
performing miracles because they were wise in the arts and knew how to
heal the sick. The name of the Golden Hearted became Quetzalcoatl, the
plumed serpent in their language, but we must remember that he wore
the Quetzal plumes in his head-dress, the same as a king wears a gold
and jeweled crown, and that a serpent in many of the languages of the
ancient people meant a very wise man. In English we would say that the
Golden Hearted was the wise king, which was not only true but a very
simple name for him. The wonderful city he built was called
Tenochtitlan, which signified "in honor of the sun," as his father had
commanded him to do, and on the spot where it stood is the City of
Mexico to-day. We shall hear very interesting things about the
teocalli, or temple he built in Tenochtitlan, when we come to the
story of "Montezuma and the Paba," for this is one of the most famous
places in the new world, and no one can afford to be ignorant of its
traditions and history.
[Illustration]
Cholula, the Sacred City
It was in the Tonituah, or great sun age, that the wise men and the
Golden Hearted built the Memento for Generations, on the plains of
Puebla. It is not so high, but is twice as long as any other pyramid
in the world, and is truncated, that is to say, it has four terraces
which are reached by long circular staircases. On top there is an acre
of ground on which once stood a wonderful teocalli or temple, built by
the wise men, and dedicated to the Golden Hearted. Each generation
added something to the beauties of the Sacred City, Cholula, which
sprang up near the pyramid, and for all time it will be one of the
most wonderful things ever done by primitive men, who did not have our
kind of implements to work with.
The Golden Hearted lived in Cholula twenty years, and during that time
he taught so many men how to make fine filigree work in gold and
silver that there were whole streets filled with them, and the
ornaments they made were famous for delicacy of design and finish.
There was also a mountain of outcry, where the laws enacted by him
were proclaimed by runners, but it is difficult to say whether this
was Orizaba, with her conical snow-capped head far to the east, or
whether it was huge Popocatepetl, or his twin sister who stood like
colossal sentinels to guard the enchanted regions.
"It is necessary to construct a calendar stone, so that the people
will know when to hold festivals, and what ceremonies to perform,"
said the son of Guatamo to the Golden Hearted, one day while the long
line of men were passing bricks by hand from the lower to the upper
terrace of the pyramid which they were trying to finish.
"I have been thinking about it," he replied, "and have decided to ask
a certain old woman, and her husband, to help select the signs."
"Be sure to make them plain to the people and appropriate to the
subject," said the son of Guatamo, who had now become the chief
adviser of the Golden Hearted. All of the wise men were still called
Nahuas, or wizards, and the Golden Hearted was their plumed serpent,
or wise king.
In the evening of that day, the Golden Hearted approached the hut of a
famous soothsayer and story-teller--the old woman he wished to consult
about the calendar. Standing in front of the door of the hut he said:
"A humble applicant claims thy assistance in a matter of great import
to thy fellows now and for all time. Wilt thou kindly hear me?"
"Since it is always for thy brothers and never for thyself thou art
constrained to invoke aid, I am honored by thy confidence," she said.
"I have long been expecting thee."
"Then thou knowest that I wish to invent a calendar which can be cut
in enduring stone?" he asked, considerably surprised that she should
already know his thoughts.
"Yes," she said, "and so well do I understand thy wishes and needs
that I have the first sign ready for thee." Motioning him to follow
her into an inner room, she showed him a water-snake she had painted
on a piece of parchment, and continued:
"Make it the sign of the serpent, the symbol of wisdom, since thou art
come to teach brotherhood to all our tribes."
A queer hunchbacked old man sat huddled up in a corner looking over a
set of parchment leaves lying on a table before him, and muttering to
himself in a low tone.
"My husband must make the next selection," said the old crone, going
up to him and taking a paper out of his hands. "He makes it two
cones," she continued, examining the design closely.
"Now it is my turn to choose," said the Golden Hearted, "and I will
select the three houses from this pile, and make that the third sign."
They took turns about until twelve signs were chosen, then the Golden
Hearted said:
"I will make the last design myself, but not until my time of
departure is at hand."
"Before going, do not forget to inscribe the face of the pyramid, and
also to explain its import fully," said the story-teller as the Golden
Hearted was leaving her hut.
"Thou art better able than I am to tell the hidden significance of
that wonderful pile," he answered.
"But it is thy duty; shirk it not," she said with decision.
Not long afterward he called all the workmen and their families
together and said:
"There has now come a time in my life when I must live in seclusion
away from the thoughts and occupations of my associates. But before
going up on top of the pyramid to live alone until the altars in its
temples are ready to receive the sacred fire, I will tell you why we
have tarried so long and made such a wonderful structure. It is really
a pillar of the Cosmos, or world, and is a center of fire which is the
essence of all life."
The name pyramid means a place of fire or a volcano, and the Goddess
Pele, of the native Hawaiians, is the spirit of the volcano.
"A pyramid," continued the Golden Hearted, "is the ideal form of the
principle of stability because it cannot be destroyed. An earthquake
will not shake it down, nor can it be set on fire. Being so big at the
bottom and so heavy it is secure from floods of water, nor can the
wind possibly blow it over. Neither time nor the elements will have
any influence on this cunningly constructed pile, and for this reason
it is like a noble character, which no adverse circumstance ever
changes."
Approaching the front of the pyramid, he pulled down a cloth hanging
over the inscription cut in symbols on the face of a huge piece of
granite.
BEFORE THE LIGHT WAS OBSCURED THIS MEMENTO FOR GENERATIONS
WAS BUILT BY SERPENT KINGS. THEY WERE SCATTERED OVER THE
EARTH TO CARRY TRUTH AND WISDOM. THEY WILL COME AGAIN TO
RECEIVE THE TREASURES HIDDEN IN MY BOWELS. THEN ALL MEN
WILL SPEAK AND HEAR THE GREAT IMPERISHABLE TRUTH.
The next morning the Golden Hearted called his little band of wise men
around him and said:
"In the Bundle of Wonderful Things given me by Guatamo, I find my
father's final command. It imposes seclusion upon me in this spot. The
temple requires a central spire and I shall build and cover it with
pure gold. Go thou to the valley and make thy life apart from me. I
love thee well, and shall miss thee sadly, but I have need to be
alone."
"What wilt thou have us do?" asked the son of Guatamo.
"Go thou amongst thy fellows and teach them the arts of peace. Show
them how to coax fertility anew out of the soil, and strengthen civil
power until I call thee."
It was several months before the spire was finished, and then it
required several days to make a llama of beaten silver as an emblem of
suffering innocence to put on the altar. The llama seated upon the
back of an eagle was rescuing a rabbit from the fangs of a
rattlesnake.
"This quaint symbol shall represent the unequal conflict between the
good and bad things in life, but the llama compelling the serpent to
give up its prey means that good shall finally triumph," said the
Golden Hearted, to himself, as he put the offering in place on the
altar.
"I have only a few days more in this beautiful spot, then must I
return to good King Cocomos, my life-long friend and follower. Well
indeed has he kept his promise to me, and not only are his subjects
blessed with all the arts of civilization, but they are a shining
example to other less favored races. I must offer a fitting
sacrifice," he continued, "on this newly erected altar before I go."
There were eight altars in the temple on top of the pyramid, and at
sunset on the last day of his stay, the Golden Hearted placed the
llama on the one facing the east. At the same time the son of Guatamo
headed a procession of wise men at the base of the pyramid, who slowly
climbed to the top. They performed sacrifice on each terrace as they
ascended, and did not reach the temple until midnight.
The Golden Hearted was alone in the great dark structure intently
watching the constellation of the Pleiades directly overhead. As
Alcyone, the dim star in the center of the group, approached the
zenith, he sprang forward with a glad cry and vigorously swinging a
copper hammer made the sparks fly from a piece of flint. The son of
venerable Guatamo held the bit of cotton over it and carefully nursed
the fire into a blaze. As the light streamed up toward the heavens
shouts of joy and triumph burst forth:
"Once more the children of men receive a direct ray from the
spiritual sun! Awake! awake! and hear the glad tidings!"
Runners with torches lighted at the blazing beacon sped in every
direction carrying the cheering element to all parts of the country.
Long before sunrise it was brightening the altars and hearthstones in
every house. The Golden Hearted prayed before the eastern altar, and
then took an affectionate farewell of the young priest of the Order of
Quetzalcoatl left in charge, but before descending, he gazed long at
the matchless scenery below. Soft spring verdure lay on all sides, and
he drew courage and inspiration from that fact. At the foot of the
pyramid he said:
"Be of good cheer. A long era of peace and prosperity is for thee and
thine. Let this knowledge be thy secret refuge lest thou be tempted to
depart from the way. Grieve not for me, in the fullness of time I will
come again."
Then he set out for the Kingdom of Tlapalla, accompanied by four
youths of noble birth. At the water's edge he took leave of them
saying:
"Guard well the temple and the sacred fires, for when I come again, I
will bring disciples with me who shall possess and rule the land."
When the four youths returned to Cholula and told all their master had
said to them, the people divided their province into four
principalities and gave the government to the four young nobles. Ever
after, four of the descendants of these youths continued to rule as
priests of the Order of Quetzalcoatl in the sacred city until the
Spaniards came, which we will know all about when we read the story
of "El Dorado, the Golden."
One of the first things done by the noble youths when they became
rulers was to make a statue of the Golden Hearted in a reclining
position, because they said that he had gone to sleep in the bosom of
the sun. When the wind blew they said he was sweeping the roads, and
that he was the god of fertility. Not any place else in the new world
was there so much reverence and respect paid to a statue as to this
one of the Golden Hearted which was for ages kept in the temple he
built on the top of the pyramid. For hundreds of miles around people
came to do reverence to it, and even if it did have a black face, the
ancient Aztecs always called him their "Fair God." And to this day the
calendar stone and many other wonderful things in Mexico are said to
have been made by him.
[Illustration: THE TORCH BEARERS]
Tulla, the Hiding Nook of the Snake
No doubt you remember that the wise men built a Dark House in Nachan
to hold the National Book, and such other treasures as the Golden
Hearted did not wish to carry with him. And you also remember that he
left a number of wise men in charge, and that he promised to return.
The great pyramid at Cholula was not all finished, but it was far
enough along so he could leave the son of Guatamo to go on with the
work while he paid a visit to his old friends in Nachan.
When he arrived there, he found a splendid city having whole houses of
silver, others of turquoise, some of white and red shells and some of
rich feathers. Cotton grew there in all colors, so it was not
necessary to dye it, and the people were rich and prosperous. A great
and mighty king ruled them, but he finally grew jealous because the
people seemed to think that all their good fortune came from obeying
the commands given them by the Golden Hearted when he visited them as
a mere youth.
They did everything in their power to honor the good prince. When he
promulgated a new law, they ran to the mountain tops and proclaimed it
in a loud voice, and then the swift-footed couriers dashed through the
country with lighted torches and repeated it to every one they met.
One day a young man came to him and said:
"Good prince, be on your guard. The king no longer loves you."
"Why do you say this to me?" asked the Golden Hearted.
"Because I know he plots to injure you. He is angry because you are
helping the wise men build Tulla. He calls it the Hiding Nook of the
Snake to show contempt for you."
"Again I ask why do you say such things to me?" There was so much
reproach in the tones of the voice of the Golden Hearted that the
young man hung his head and stammered:
"Forgive me, but I wanted you to know there is danger for you here,
and I am ready to serve you faithfully."
The Golden Hearted made no reply, but taking a thoroughly-dried cactus
needle from a shelf, stuck it through his ears and was beginning to
pierce his tongue when the young man sprang forward and caught his
hand.
"Why, good prince," he cried in a startled voice, "do you maltreat
your poor ears and tongue? It is I who have spoken evil, not you."
"But I listened, and that is an offense against the Good Law. Do you
think I will not punish myself for disobedience?"
"Oh," said the young man, with tears streaming down his face, "the
sight of blood makes my heart ache, and I, too, will be punished." And
with that he stuck cactus needles through his ears and tongue.
"My friend," said the Golden Hearted, "I thank you for your kind
thought of me, but I must beautify Tulla even if it does displease the
king, and he is right in calling it the Hiding Nook of the Snake,
because it will be a treasure-house of the wisdom inherited from the
philosophers and wise men of your race. You should always bear in mind
that a serpent is a symbol of wisdom, and not a thing to despise. The
king compliments me, even though he knows it not."
The young man went out of the room with the thorns still sticking in
his ears, and when he spat blood, his companions said:
"Why does your mouth bleed?" and he answered:
"Because I have been speaking evil of some one."
"Open your mouth and let us see," they said.
"It is only needful to examine the tongue. I have pierced it with the
sharp needle of the cactus."
"Who gave you leave to do such a thing?"
"No one," he answered, "but when the Good Prince inflicted that
penalty on himself for merely hearing what I said, I could do no less
than follow his example."
"And we will do likewise," they said, and in after years, every
devotee of the teachings of the Golden Hearted punished himself in
this manner for evil speaking or listening to others saying unkind
things of a fellow creature.
Of course we know that the king really was jealous of the Golden
Hearted, and was determined that he should not stay long in Tulla,
which bade fair to rival his own city with which it was connected by
the secret passageway containing the Dark House. During the years of
his absence, the wise men left in Nachan had been at work on this
wonderful city, and it was very beautiful indeed, even before the
Golden Hearted saw it at all. When he came the inhabitants received
him with great rejoicing, and then the king of Nachan began to be
afraid that he would have too great a following.
The king had no excuse to fight the Golden Hearted, because he always
put his fingers in his ears when they talked of war in his presence,
and under no circumstances would he have been made king himself. He
only wanted to teach and help the people in a peaceable and kind way.
The king knew all this, but he was uneasy and wanted the Golden
Hearted to go away. So he hired a native wizard to play a cunning
trick upon the Golden Hearted. Disguising himself as one of the wise
men, the wizard went to his house and said to his servant:
"I wish to see and speak to your master."
"Go away, old man, you cannot see the prince for he is sick. You will
annoy him and cause him heaviness."
"But I must see him," persisted the pretended old man.
"Wait a moment and I will ask him," said the servant, and he went and
told the Golden Hearted that a strange old man was determined to see
him.
"Let him come in," said the sick man.
Tottering up to the bedside as if he were very feeble, the intruder
said with well-feigned sympathy:
"How are you, my lord? Here is a medicine I have brought for you."
[Illustration: "HERE IS MEDICINE FOR YOU"]
"You are welcome; I have been expecting you for many days," and the
Golden Hearted held out his hand in a friendly manner.
"How is your body, and how is your health?" again asked the visitor,
seating himself by the bedside.
"I am exceedingly sick. All my body is in pain, and I cannot move my
hands nor my feet."
"The medicine I have is good and wholesome. If you will drink it you
will be healed and eased at heart." As he said this, the wizard held
up a small silver cup and put a white powder in it. "Drink this and
you will then have in mind the toils and fatigues of death, and of
your departure."
"Where have I to go?" cried his listener in surprise.
"To Tlapalla (which was their name for the Happy Island), where The
Old Man of the Sea is waiting for you. He has much to tell you, and
when you return you will be young and handsome. Indeed you will be a
mere boy again." Seeing that the Golden Hearted merely stared at him,
he said: "Sir, drink this medicine."
But the sick man did not wish to do so.
"Drink, my lord, or you will be sorry for it hereafter," urged the
wizard.
"No, no; I will not drink it."
"At least rub some on your brow and taste a sip." So the Golden
Hearted drank a little to try it, saying:
"What is this? It seems to be a thing very good and savory. Already I
feel myself healed. I am well."
"Drink some more, my lord, since it is good. The more you drink, the
better you will feel."
The sick man swallowed considerable more and then he was drunk. It was
not medicine at all that the wizard gave him, but a white wine made
from the maguey plant and the powder he put in it was to make the
Golden Hearted believe that he must go away.
For days after he was very sad and wept continuously, but he began to
get ready to leave Tulla. No matter what was said to dissuade him, he
could never get rid of the idea that he must take all of his followers
and go as quickly as possible.
The wise men, seeing that he was determined, gathered up all the
picture writings they had made as a record of their journeys, and
putting them into an ark, carried it swung on a pole with them. Before
leaving, they called the people together and said:
"Know that the Golden Hearted commands you to remain here in these
lands of which he makes you master and gives you possession. He goes
to the place whence he and we came, but he will return to visit you
when it shall be time for the world to come to an end. You must await
him in these lands, possessing them and all contained in them since
for this purpose came we hither. Remain, therefore, for we go with the
Golden Hearted."
The Departure of the Golden Hearted
The poisoned wine worked in the brain of the Golden Hearted and caused
him to do many singular things. For instance he burned all the
beautiful houses built for him by the wise men and ordered much of his
treasure to be buried in the mountains and ravines. When he left
Tulla, he took all the bright-plumaged singing birds with him, and
would only allow nineteen of the wise men to go with him.
Two of these knew all about fishing, and two knew about farming, and
one was a weather prophet who studied the clouds and winds, and could
foretell storms, while all the rest were priests who kindled the
sacred fires and taught the people the Good Law.
As soon as the King of Tulla found he was leaving, he took an army and
followed after him, laying the country waste and taking captive as
many of the people as he could find.
"Good prince, why do you not let us make war upon your and our enemy?"
the warriors often asked him, but he always put his fingers in his
ears and replied sadly:
"You do not understand the Good Law, my friend. The only way to
overcome hate is with love. It is fully time for me to return to
Tlapalla."
He traveled on until he came to a place where there was a great tree,
high and very thick. Here he sat down to rest.
"Bring me a mirror," he said to his servant, and when he saw his face
reflected in it, he cried out:
"Take it away. I am already old." Then the wise men knew that the drug
in the wine was making him mad again and they did not try to hinder
him when he began throwing stones at the tree.
"I will make these stones stick into your bark until you look like a
porcupine and the wind cannot blow them out," he said, and for a long,
long time, the tree was pointed out to travelers as being enchanted,
because the god of wind had hurled his wrathful breath upon it. From
all accounts the tree was full of sharp rocks from top to bottom and
must have looked very queer indeed.
The flute players tried to divert his attention as they marched along
the wood, but he was very weary and finally sat down to rest on a
stone by the roadside.
"O, Thou of infinite mercy and compassion, dry the hot tears that
flood and burn my face," he said brokenly as he looked toward Tulla.
People now say that his tears marked and ate into the stone, and that
the print of his hands is still to be found on it.
After he had reached a very wide river and had commanded his followers
to help build a bridge across it, he was met by some men who tried to
stop him.
"Where are you going?" they asked, "and why do you leave your city? To
whose care will you commend it, and who will do penance in it?" The
Golden Hearted answered them firmly:
"You can in no wise hinder me, for I must go."
"But where are you going?" they insisted.
"To Tlapalla," he answered.
"For what purpose are you going?"
"The sun calls me," he said.
"Go then," they replied, "but leave behind all the mechanical arts,
the melting of silver, the working of precious stones and of masonry,
picture writing, feather work and other crafts." And then they would
have robbed him, but he threw all his rich jewels into a fountain.
Among his tormentors was the pretended old wizard who tried to induce
him to drink more wine.
"No, I can not drink it. I can not even taste it again," he said, and
that night in his sleep he turned his head from side to side and tore
his hair with his hands.
The next morning in passing between a volcano and the snowy mountain
tops, all his servants being hunchbacked, died of cold, and he had no
way to get down the steep mountain side except to slide in a squatting
position with his feet close together.
In one place he stopped and built a square stone court for ball play,
and taught the people how to play the game. Now it is said that he
drew a line through the center of the court, and that made the deep
gash in the mountains still to be seen.
In another place he threw a dart at a tree and pierced it in such a
manner that it looked like a cross, and after that a cross was called
"The Tree of Our Life," in memory of this event. Some say that he
built houses with certain underground passageways where he hid picture
writing and records of his teachings, and just before arriving at the
water's edge, he set up and balanced a great stone so that it could be
moved with one's little finger, but a whole multitude could not
displace it.
No doubt you remember the village chief where the Golden Hearted went
when he first arrived from the Happy Island, and also that he sent
this chief a cross with a hand in the center. Now that he was going
home again, the Golden Hearted thought he would visit the chief and
see how he and his people were progressing.
Imagine his surprise in finding that they had dedicated a temple to
him, and that in the middle of the square tower was a terra cotta
statue of himself dressed as a warrior holding an arrow in his hand,
and because the statue was hollow they thought it was an oracle. His
name in their language was Cukulcan, but the common people called him
"The Working Hand," and had great respect for a huge stone cross
erected in the turreted courtyard in front of the temple, which had a
big red hand in the center.
When the Golden Hearted went among the people, he found that they
remembered everything he had told them, and that on the anniversary of
his coming great crowds of people came on a pilgrimage to the oracle
statue in the temple. It did no good for him to tell them that he was
simply an elder brother and teacher come to give them aid in a simple,
kindly way. They believed he was sent by God, and for ages after the
people made pilgrimages to this shrine, and held it in very great
esteem.
Realizing that it was time for him to go down to the sea coast among
the fishermen he had first seen, he went to the temple service one
morning, and after praying before the altar, picked up a sacred Tunkel
and sang them a prophetic song of farewell:
"Ye men of Itza hearken to the tidings
Listen to the forecast of this cycle's end,
Four have been the ages of the world's progressing
Now the fourth is ending and its end is near,
A mighty lord is coming, see you give him honor,
A potent lord approaches to whom all must bow
I, the prophet, warn you, keep in mind my boding,
Men of Itza mark it, and await your lord."
[Illustration: "A PROPHETIC SONG OF FAREWELL"]
"Waste not your time in idle repining," he said in farewell, "I go for
purification, but will surely come again."
He only spent time enough on the seashore to build and provision a
balsa, or boat with sails, and then he said "good bye" to the
fisherfolk, and sailed away toward the east with a few of the wise men
for companions. Just before he stepped into the boat he turned to the
wise men, who were to remain and said:
"It wrings my heart to part from you, but there is need for you to
stay here in order to complete the tasks already begun." As he
embraced and kissed each one on the cheek he named their special duty,
and had no fear that his orders would not be fully carried out.
"You must go to the son of Guatamo, and tell him my work is finished."
To another he said:
"You must go about and teach in my stead. I will come again, but at
another time."
It was difficult for him to persuade the fisherman not to accompany
him.
"Have no fear. Mine is a staunch bark capable of riding the storm and
stress of the angry sea. Farewell, beloved, I will return to you, when
the time and seasons are propitious."
The people on shore turned again and again to throw kisses to him,
while the fishermen in their little boats put out to sea with him, and
strained their vision to catch a last glimpse of his flower-laden
balsa.
The wise men and priests in the temples where-ever he had been, began
at once to guard the sacred fires and to watch and pray for his safe
return. Lest they should forget his sayings they engraved them on
stone, and taught them to the people so that his name was a household
word for generations. His was the only civilization known in the
Americas before the advent of the white men.
[Illustration: "THE SNAKE-SKIN CANOE"]
El Dorado, the Golden
We have read somewhere that "in 1492 Columbus sailed the waters blue,"
and we know that the big Exposition held in Chicago in 1893 was to
commemorate the four hundredth anniversary of the discovery of
America, but no one can possibly tell how long it was after the Golden
Hearted sailed away, until Columbus came.
And nobody knows where the Golden Hearted went.
He said he was going to Tlapalla, which we know meant the Happy
Island, but no one can find it any more, and there are traditions
which say that the island, with all its inhabitants, sank in the
ocean. This may be why the Golden Hearted never came back again. Of
course the wise men and the primitive people in the Americas believed
that he would return because he said he would, and they watched and
waited all the long years from one generation to another. Many times
bright and promising young men, just out of the universities, or fresh
from victories on the battle fields, would take the vows of a priest,
and give up all their hopes and ambitions to serve in the temples
erected in honor of the Golden Hearted. They did not know anything
more about him than we do, but they had faith in him.
They said:
"All the good we know comes from him, and when he returns all wrongs
will be righted and every heart made to rejoice. He will give us
everything we wish for."
Several times during the year whole nations would fast and do severe
penance to induce him to come quickly. Not one of them could be made
to believe that he was dead.
"No, no," they said, "he is asleep in the bosom of the sun. He will
surely come again; he promised us he would."
Then they would get the idea that he was offended, and the kings would
order great sacrifice to be made to appease him. In some places I am
sorry to say they offered the quivering, bleeding hearts of human
beings by the hundreds, but still he did not come. In other places
they remembered his gentleness and only laid fruit, flowers and
perfumes on the sacred fire altars which they still kept burning.
There were many places where they carefully preserved his sayings by
cutting them in sign language on the stones of the temples, and every
child was taught to imitate his virtues and follow his example.
For several years before Columbus arrived the priests and wise men had
been prophesying that the Golden Hearted was soon to return, that the
sun was bringing him back, accompanied by companions like himself, who
would rule over them. Not even the great-great-grandfathers of the men
then living had seen the Golden Hearted, so they did not know how he
looked, but their traditions said that he was a bearded white man, and
we shall see by and by what a curious mistake this led them to make
about the first white men who came to them after the discovery of
America.
Before we can understand how such things could happen, we must
remember that the people in Europe did not know there was an America,
and that many of them had very queer ideas about the shape of the
earth. Some said it was four-cornered and square like a dry goods box,
and others thought it was round and flat like a plate, surrounded by
water which finally changed into vapor and mist, and that whoever
ventured far out into the misty clouds fell through and went--heaven
knows where!
In the quaint old Italian city of Genoa was born a little boy named
Christopher Columbus, who was to change all this, and be the innocent
cause of much suffering to the descendants of the races who had been
visited by the Golden Hearted. When a mere lad at school, he was
greatly interested in boats, and he not only studied geography and
history, but read all the books of travel he could find, and dreamed
night and day of a great long voyage he was going to make on the ocean
some time. He did not waste his time fishing and playing on the beach
like other boys, but picked up the chips that washed ashore and
examined them very carefully, because he believed that if there was an
unknown land some where in the west, that the waves would bring
something ashore from there. He was really quite an old man before he
found anything, but one day he picked up some strange chips at Cadiz
that had been cut by hand, and then he knew he was right.
Sailors always do have wonderful tales to tell about the sea, and in
those days they were so superstitious that they were sure that there
were huge monsters living in the distant waters just waiting to eat up
any sailor foolish enough to venture near them. There was not one of
them willing to listen to Columbus, when he tried to explain that the
earth is round like an orange, and that we live on the outside of it.
He said to them repeatedly:
"If we sail west steadily, we shall in time arrive back at the place
from which we started." Finally, not only the sailors, but the people
in the streets pointed their fingers at him and said:
"There goes the crazy old man, who thinks the world is as round as an
apple."
The more he talked and reasoned and argued and even drew maps to prove
that he was right, the more everybody shook their heads and called him
crazy.
Columbus was about to give up in despair because he was very poor, and
there seemed to be no way by which he could demonstrate that his
theory of the shape of the earth was correct.
And now comes a curious coincidence.
He was a very devout Christian, and felt certain that the inhabitants
of this strange country in the west had never heard of our God nor of
his beloved son Jesus, and his heart was fired with zeal to reach
these poor heathens and tell them the story of the Christ.
About this time some influential friend secured an audience for him
with the King of Portugal, but it did no good to tell his story to the
rich monarch, who was neither of a scientific nor a religious turn of
mind, and he might as well have talked to the wind. Utterly
discouraged Columbus decided to go to Spain, which is a near neighbor
of Portugal, and see if he could not induce the famous King Ferdinand
and Isabella, the queen, to give him boats to make his longed-for
voyage. The queen especially was very pious and was much interested in
Columbus' story about the heathens, but the ministers of her court
laughed at Columbus and said:
"It is a foolish dream which can never be carried out."
Almost heart-broken Columbus silently turned his back on the Spanish
capital and walked a long way to a seaport called Palos, where there
was a queer old convent in which strangers were made welcome by the
kind monks living in it. Knocking upon the gate, he said to the
porter:
"Will you please give me a bit of bread and a drink of water."
Fortunately, the prior, a learned man and an intimate friend of Queen
Isabella came along, and was quick to see that Columbus was no common
beggar. He invited him in, and after listening quietly and
thoughtfully to his visitor's plan of crossing the ocean to convert
the heathen to Christianity, he borrowed a mule and rode miles across
the country to the castle where the Queen was staying and persuaded
her to help Columbus.
"It is your duty," he said. "God has given you riches and many
blessings that you may assist your fellow men, and these strange
people know nothing of our God, and they need teachers to help them
find the right way of living."
Queen Isabella was so impressed with what he said that she immediately
petitioned the Royal Treasurer to give Columbus money to make his
voyage of discovery.
"Your majesty, there is no money to spare," was the polite answer of
the Treasurer, who, like all the rest of the court, thought Columbus
was a visionary dreamer if not crazy.
"Very well," she said. "I will pawn my crown jewels," and she did.
This was a most noble and courageous act on her part, for a queen in
those days was scarcely considered dignified or respectable without
splendid crown jewels to wear on public occasions, but she was bent
upon sending the gospel of Christ to the heathen in America. Does it
not seem strange that the Golden Hearted and the Queen of Spain should
be credited with the same desire to help the people of the Americas,
and that they lived hundreds of years apart and could never have known
of each other, and that one incident is a fact of history and the
other only a legend?
But as soon as Columbus secured the money another difficulty arose. No
sailor could be found who would risk his life on an unknown sea with
such a crazy old man. Finally Queen Isabella had to promise liberty
and full pardon to the convicts in the prisons before Columbus could
get any one to go with him. It was a terrible thing for him but he had
a brave heart, and the monks from the convent at Palos sent some of
their number with him to teach the natives.
On and on, the three caravels, the Santa Maria, the Pinta and Nina,
sailed without finding land, until their provisions were getting low
and the crews of convicts were about to mutiny and kill Columbus. In
order to keep them quiet he told them wonderful stories of the riches
of this land they were trying to find.
"You can have all the gold, and silver, and precious gems you can
carry," he promised them. In an instant you could see the cunning and
greed in their wicked faces. They did not care whether the earth was
round or flat, nor what became of the natives, if they only had gold,
and then they would gather around Columbus and question him closely
about the size of the nuggets and precious stones. Of course he could
only guess at it, but he knew that to save his life he must say
something, so he replied:
"I firmly believe that there are immense pieces of solid gold to be
found there, and that it is abundant."
[Illustration: "ON AND ON THE THREE CARAVELS SAILED."]
Some thought they would find it in lumps as big as a house, and they
all expected to pick up hands full of gems just anywhere. Columbus had
strained his eyes looking for the land until he was nearly blind, but
one night he imagined he saw a glimmer of light ahead. Where there was
light there must be land, he thought. So he called one of the sailors
to him and asked him what he saw.
[Illustration: "LAND! LAND AHEAD!"]
"A light! a light!" cried the sailor joyfully. But it was not until
nearly two o'clock in the morning that the commander of one of the
other boats started the cry:
"Land! Land ahead!"
You can imagine what excitement there was on all the caravels, and how
thankful Columbus was. The padres gathered around him, and as he
sprang ashore, he dropped on his knees and stooped and kissed the
ground. Even the sailors forgot about the gold while he and the padres
prayed and thanked God for giving mankind a new world.
Immediately the flag of Spain was planted and the land claimed for
King Ferdinand and Isabella, but wonderful indeed were the things
surrounding them. Men and women of a bronze color crowded around them
and offered them strange, but delicious fruits and flowers and brought
them food and water. In his first letter to Queen Isabella, Columbus
said of them:
"There is not in all the world a better people nor a better land.
Their converse is ever sweet and gentle, and is accompanied by a
smile. They truly love their neighbor as themselves."
Finding them docile and kind the padres set about teaching them, and
the simple natives were very willing listeners. It was quite a long
time before they could understand each other well, but the padres told
the story of the Christ the first time they held a service, which was
on a Sunday. Remembering the precepts of the Golden Hearted, the faces
of the natives lighted up understandingly when they heard the words of
Jesus which bade them be loving and kind to each other, and they
nodded their heads and exclaimed:
"El Dorado! El Dorado!"
At least that is what the ignorant convict sailors thought they said.
The words "El Dorado" in Spanish, which was their mother tongue, meant
"The Golden," or "The Gilded One." We know they were eager and greedy
to find gold and that they had been told to help themselves freely to
all they could get, so they immediately began to question the simple
natives.
"Yes, yes; we have plenty of gold," the natives said, in surprise,
because they did not value it at all, except for ornaments, and they
ran to fetch some for their visitors. When they saw how glad it made
the sailors, they were happy and content as a lot of children, and
they not only brought all they had, but told where there was plenty
more to be found.
[Illustration]
"Bimini, the Fountain of Youth"
When Columbus sailed back to Spain and told the story of his wonderful
discoveries the people did not believe him at first, but when he
showed them the gold and silver ornaments, and the strange red men,
they were so amazed that they forgot even to ask questions.
The news was so startling that it simply took their breath away and
they stared at each other stupidly. Then they said in awe-stricken
whispers:
"How can such things be? Is the world coming to an end? Are we going
to die? Or are _we_ crazy? Maybe our ears and eyes are fooling us."
But Columbus only smiled and said:
"My friends, you see I was right. The earth is round, and I have not
only found India with its untold riches, but I have brought some of
its people home with me."
And that is why today we call the red men Indians. Columbus did not
know that he had discovered a new continent, so it was natural for him
to speak of the natives as Indians. And I am sure you will pity him
when I tell you that he died without ever knowing the difference.
All Europe was in a fever of excitement over his voyage, and it was
not long before he fitted out other vessels and sailed across the
ocean again to find the northwest passage which he believed would
shorten the route to India. Rich men, and learned ones, were ready to
go with him, and the sailors expected to find gold and precious stones
scattered all over the ground. Every word that the convicts told them
about El Dorado they thought meant gold, and the wildest and most
exaggerated stories were soon in everybody's mouth.
The padres, too, were enthusiastic over the prospect of converting the
heathen, but nobody took the trouble to find out what the Indians
believed about God. Every one misunderstood the meaning of El Dorado
and never dreamed that there had been such a teacher as the Golden
Hearted, or that the Indians already knew how to be brotherly and
kind.
Even the most learned men in those days were ready to accept the
existence of a mythical city called Cathay as true.
They thought it was situated somewhere between the island of
Newfoundland and Florida, where they expected to find the spice
groves. Another story very common in Europe said that there was among
the beautiful summer isles of the west, one that conferred immortality
and was spoken of as the Island of Perpetual Youth. Among those whose
imagination was fired by this romance was a brave knight named Ponce
de Leon, who was Columbus' companion on his second voyage. He did not
care for the gold of the new world, for he was already rich, but he
was old, and he wanted to renew his youth. King Ferdinand commissioned
him Governor of Porto Rico, but he soon tired of it, and was
determined to discover the magic spring.
"For what reason should I stay here and lord it over these half-naked
savages," he said to his relatives and friends when they tried to
dissuade him from undertaking such a perilous search. "Let us go where
we can bathe in those enchanted waters and be young once more. I need
it and so will you before very long."
"But how do you know there is such a place?" they asked.
"By hearing the full particulars of an old Indian who went there and
washed himself and drank from the spring until he was restored to
youth and vigor. Let us go and be like him."
To find this new marvel he set sail with three brigantines, and the
adventurers with him floated over the summer sea, as men bent upon
pleasure, and to whom time was long and burdened with no serious
duties. They sailed from island to island touching here and there as
fancy led them. They sought the safest and pleasantest coves, where
the shades were deepest in the noonday sun, and the waters coolest;
where the fruits were the sweetest, the Indians most friendly and
their women the loveliest. At last they came to an inlet which led
invitingly up among wooded banks and flowering valleys. Here the old
knight said:
"Let us disembark and strike inland. My heart tells me that we have
found the Fountain of Youth."
"Nonsense," said his younger kinsman, "our way lies by water."
"Then leave me here with my men," he replied, and after an angry
discussion five men, long past middle age, and who had come with him
from Spain, were left on shore. The first thing they did was to climb
to the top of a hill and set up a cross which they had brought with
them. As soon as it was in place they all removed their helmets and
prayed before it. One of the men said to him:
"The ground is pawed up as if cattle ranged here, and this path has
been trod by human feet."
"You are right," said Ponce de Leon, "lead the way and we will
follow."
Taking the path they met about fifty Indian bowmen, who seemed to
their startled vision like a whole company of giants, but, who proved
to be of a very friendly disposition.
The grizzled old knights were anxious to inquire about the fabled
Fountain, so they gave the Indians strings of gay-colored beads, and
some little bells. In return they received an arrow, as a token of
good will. After a long parley the bowmen turned back to their huts.
"We will bring you food in the morning," they said, and at daybreak
they appeared again bringing plenty of fish, roots and fruits. When
they saw that the men were chilly from the cold night air, they said
to each other:
"Let us carry our brothers to our homes where they can get warm."
"But they will suffer on the way," said the chief. "Go before us and
build big fires and we will stop at each one to rest our weary arms."
The Spanish knights did not know what to make of this kind of
treatment, but they offered no resistance when the stalwart warriors
took them on their backs and started through the woods. The Indians
carried them very carefully, and at last set them down before the
doors of their huts where the women brought them food and drink.
"I wonder what they intend to do with us," said the knights among
themselves. On hearing this remark Ponce de Leon replied:
"It is just possible that they will offer us as a sacrifice, for it is
quite plain that they think we are supernatural beings."
"Let us get away from them as quickly as we can," they said, fearing
that something terrible would happen.
"Before we go we must try to find out about the magic spring we are
seeking," replied Ponce de Leon, unwilling to give up his project. It
required considerable time and patience to make the Indians comprehend
what he wanted, but they stoutly maintained that they knew nothing
about it.
"These redskins are cunning rascals, and will not tell us where to
find the Fountain of Youth," said Ponce de Leon, in explanation,
after his fruitless talk with them, "but God giving us strength we
will find it yet."
So they went slowly and carefully over the whole country, stopping at
each spring to take off their clothes and jump into it, then they
would drink as much of the water as they could, and sit down and wait
to see if it would make them young again. As they went farther away
from the coast the Indians became more and more friendly, because they
thought the white men had come from Heaven.
"We must bring them food, build houses for them and bear all their
burdens," they said among themselves. Some went out on the hills and
killed deer with their bows and arrows, while others killed rabbits by
going in a big wide circuit and then gradually closing in on the game.
When near enough they knocked the rabbit on the head with a wooden
club as it ran by them.
"Breathe upon and bless our food," they said to the knights, after
giving them all they wanted for themselves, "so that we may feel sure
in our hearts that you are pleased with us."
At first only the men made these requests, but finally the women
brought wild fruits and berries, which they wanted the visitors to see
and touch before they would eat. All this was very troublesome to the
knights, but if they refused or acted as if they were offended, the
poor Indians were terrified, and falling on their faces would cry
out:
"We shall die unless we have the favor of our good and wise white
brothers."
Farther on, the people did not venture to come out in the paths and
gather round them as the first had done, but stayed meekly in their
houses, sitting with their faces turned to the wall, and with all
their property heaped up in the middle of the floor.
"We could easily plunder and rob these simple folk," said Ponce de
Leon, "but I charge you on your honor as knights to take nothing you
do not pay for."
In spite of this the natives loaded them with valuable skins and other
presents, and were eager and willing to show all the springs and
creeks in their neighborhood.
"They pretend to know nothing of the miraculous gifts of the Fountain
of Youth, but their own splendid endurance of heat and cold, and the
fatigues of travel show how perpetually young and active they are. If
their bodies were pierced through with arrows they would soon recover.
They are trying to mislead us and conceal the source of their
strength, but we will soon find it," the Spanish knights said, and
Ponce de Leon, their leader, heartily agreed with them.
Never in the world had there been such a strange journey undertaken by
gray and careworn men. On and on they went searching in the heart of
the woods for a fountain where they could renew their youth. Yellow
jasmine trailed in festoons above their heads; wild roses grew at
their feet; the air was sweet with the odor of pine, while long gray
moss hung from the branches of the live-oaks.
Finally they came to a spring which widened into a natural basin and
bubbled up in such a cool, delicious manner, that Ponce de Leon
plunged into it with joy. Coming up on the bank to dress himself, he
exclaimed:
"It is enough. I have bathed in the Fountain of Youth. See, I am young
again."
His companions hastened to try it, and they too said the same.
"Hurrah! hurrah! the Fountain of Youth has been found! Let us make
haste to tell the world of your discovery."
But they were mistaken and had not counted on what the Indians would
do about it. When they found that the white men wanted a boat to go
down the river they were eager to get it for them, but when they
understood that they were going away, they wept bitterly, and tried
every way to persuade them to stay.
"No, we will not remain. This is Florida, the land of flowers, and we
are looking for Bimini, the Fountain of Youth," said Ponce de Leon,
firmly. "Your people have misled us continually. Bimini is an island
and we are going to search until we find it."
"And if you succeed will you return to us," asked an Indian chief
eagerly. "You have the secret of life and death in your hands, and
have already saved my wife and child. Stay and we will serve you
faithfully."
[Illustration: "HURRAH! HURRAH! THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH"]
"Oh! my brothers, stay with us!" begged and implored the Indians. Some
of them clung to the garments of the knights, and others were dragged
out of the boat by the determined natives. Finally Ponce de Leon,
grown tired of useless parley, said angrily:
"I am old and weary and must soon die if I do not find the waters
which will renew my youth and vigor. Your thickets and swamps are
filled with alligators and poisonous water snakes; the very air is
laden with deadly fevers, and never again will I return to it."
As the canoe started down the river the Indians wrung their hands and
wailed loudly:
"Come back! come back!" But Ponce de Leon stood up in the boat and
shook his head, and made them understand by signs that he would not do
as they wished. This made them all the more frantic and one of the
warriors, snatching up a poisoned arrow, sped it with deadly aim. It
went through the thigh of the gallant old knight where he stood, and
it was not long until death ended his search for the Fountain of
Youth. Since then no one has ever tried to locate this wonder-working
fountain, but philosophers say that it is in our own hearts and that
we find it when we realize that the soul never dies, and is
perpetually young because of its immortality.
Montezuma and the Paba
Columbus died poor and in prison because nobody was interested in his
effort to find a northwest passage to India, or cared whether the
earth was round or flat. They wanted gold, and the stories of El
Dorado told by the ignorant sailors had more influence on the people
than anything Columbus said or did.
"I have merely opened the gates for others to enter," he exclaimed
bitterly, when he found himself thwarted in all his plans, but there
is more honor accorded his memory than to any of the others who came
after him, and made immense fortunes.
The same year that Queen Isabella died, a young man, but nineteen
years old, named Hernando Cortez, sailed from Spain for Cuba. Already
there was quite a Spanish settlement on the island, and when the
Governor offered him a large tract of land with Indian slaves to
cultivate it, he answered angrily:
"I came to get gold, not to till the soil like a peasant."
He expected to find untold wealth locked up in the unexplored regions
of the new world, and had no patience with any of the slower methods
of gaining riches. Instead of working he meant to fight for what he
wanted and we shall find when we know more about him that he broke his
word to his king, the governor of Cuba, to his wife, to his soldiers,
and to every friend who served him. Yet he was born a gentleman,
handsome and well mannered, but a greedy love of gold rendered him
brutal and treacherous to a degree.
In his company were gallant knights of chivalry, servile retainers of
the king, soldiers of fortune, and bearded friars, who left behind
them country, home, family, friends and sweethearts, to seek El
Dorado, which to them meant simply gold. When we study the history of
the United States we shall be surprised to find men like them in full
armor of steel, with lance, shield and helmet, mounted on prancing
steeds, caparisoned in gay colors, glittering through the untracked
wilderness of Florida, Georgia, Alabama, and even as far west as
Arizona, always in search of El Dorado. And in every case their greed
for gold led to such bloodshed and violence, that it makes the heart
ache to think about it.
Not many years after Cortez landed in Cuba, the Governor sent for him
and said:
"I have at last secured permission from the king to explore the
continent lying to the west, and I desire you to take ships and
soldiers and have command of the expedition."
Something in Cortez' manner excited the suspicion of the Governor, but
he said nothing until he was ready to sail. Then he withdrew the
commission, and ordered Cortez to remain in Cuba. Instead of obeying
he stole away in the night, and did not land until he came to the
coast of Mexico, close to the point from which the Golden Hearted had
sailed. His men were afraid to venture far from shore, but he painted
glowing pictures of the gold they were to find, and said:
"I hold out to you a glorious prize, but it is only to be won by
incessant toil."
Then holding up a black velvet standard with a red cross in the
center, surrounded by flames of blue and white, he continued:
"Comrades, let us follow the cross, and under this sign if we have
faith, we shall conquer."
The padres with them, who had come to minister to the spiritual
welfare of the cavaliers and soldiers, urged them to go forward,
saying:
"We are in honor bound to carry the gospel to these poor, ignorant
heathens, and God has given you the privilege of helping in this work."
The Indians were friendly and when asked for gold, answered:
"We on the sea coast have little, but in Tenochtitlan there is a rich
and powerful king named Montezuma, who has much gold and other
treasures."
Around them were parched and sandy plains, but on the march they soon
came to "the land of bread," as the Tlascallan country was called, and
here they heard of Cholula, the sacred city. When they came in sight
of it they exclaimed:
"It is the promised land!" and were amazed at the splendor of the
city, as well as the surrounding country, where there were fields of
maize, vanilla, indigo, sugar cane, flowering cacao groves, and banana
trees in profusion. The streets of Cholula were filled with a
concourse of priests whom Cortez mistook for beggars. They were
holding a religious festival in honor of Quetzalcoatl, which was their
name for the Golden Hearted, who had now become the Fair God of
tradition. Long had they been expecting him to return to Cholula, and
because Cortez had a fair complexion, and was accompanied by other
white men they thought the Golden Hearted had come at last. The people
lined the streets and roadways and not only wore garlands of flowers
on their heads, but tossed bouquets to the soldiers, while the priests
met them with music and swung incense up and down the cleanly-swept
streets they passed through.
"What is the will of Quetzalcoatl?" they asked eagerly of Cortez.
"Do you come from Tlapalla?" they inquired of his followers.
"No," they were answered, "but we have a disease of the heart which
only gold can cure."
Then the simple natives brought all the gold-dust and little trinkets
they could find and gave to their visitors. Cortez thanked them, but
said:
"This is not enough. We must have very much more."
"Then you would better ask our friend and ally, the great king,
Montezuma. He has immense stores of it."
"Where is this great king, and this city of Tenochtitlan?"
"Farther to the west," they answered.
Shortly after this an embassy of nobles from the court of Montezuma
appeared with rich presents and an invitation to Cortez to visit the
king. None of them had ever seen a white man before, and they did not
for a moment doubt that Cortez was the Golden Hearted, returned to
claim his own, and they were very anxious to please him. Touching his
brass helmet one of them said timidly:
"It is very like that worn by Quetzalcoatl, and I would like our king,
Montezuma, to see it."
"Certainly," responded Cortez, "but bring it back filled with gold."
And they did. No one knows just why, but something made Cortez
suspect the gentle natives of treachery, and one morning at daybreak
he fell upon them in the market place, and slew thousands of people,
and then set fire to the city. His rude soldiers went up on the
pyramid and threw down the statue of the Golden Hearted, and erected a
cross in its place. History says that the Aztecs had long been
offering the hearts of human beings in sacrifice to the Golden Hearted
in Cholula, while in Tenochtitlan they had set up an image of a
terrible war god, and were worshiping that more than the gentle,
inoffensive Golden Hearted. It was this disobedience which made
Montezuma fear that he was returning to take vengeance.
One morning early the king went to see the Paba, who had charge of the
sacred fires on the altars built by the Golden Hearted himself. The
chamber in the temple was square, with the ceiling covered by a
lattice work of shining white and yellow metal which, at the
intersections, was carved to represent flowers set with jewels. All
around the walls were sculptured pictures of men. As the king
approached the Paba said:
"The gloomy clouds hanging overhead are not darker than is the mood of
Quetzalcoatl, but to the poor Paba the voice of the king is ever
welcome."
"Why should the mood of Quetzalcoatl be dark? A new teocalli holds his
image, and they say he is happy and that he comes from the place of
sunrise with a canoe filled with blessings."
"Do you remember, O king! that in some of the underground chambers of
this temple, besides vast stores of wealth, there are prophecies to be
read?"
"I remember it well," said Montezuma.
"Give me leave, and I will show you the writing from Quetzalcoatl
himself."
Groping their way through the great underground cavern, but dimly
lighted, the Paba said:
"Son of a king, is your heart strong? The writing begins here and
continues around the wall."
"Read it," said Montezuma.
"The first is here on the north and represents the ancient king on the
march. You see him in the midst of warriors who are dancing in honor
of his victories. Here we have the whole story of our race."
"This was before the coming of Quetzalcoatl and is of the remote
past," said Montezuma, with a frown.
"On the southern wall, opposite," replied the Paba, "is what you seek.
Observe the king stands on a rock, and a priest points out to him an
eagle on a cactus holding a serpent in its claws. Beside it the king
reclines on a couch. Our city has been founded."
Montezuma said not a word, but turned to another panel.
"Look well to this, O king! There is Quetzalcoatl before an altar
offering a sacrifice of fruit and flowers. _His hands are free from
blood!_"
Montezuma's face was deadly pale, because he knew that many orders of
priests in his kingdom sacrificed human beings by cutting out their
hearts, and he was afraid that the coming of the strange white men was
on account of this forbidden practice.
"See! Oh majesty! the fair god is departing from our beloved
Tenochtitlan. Saddest of all days was that for us."
"Show me a prophecy if you would have me believe that this was written
by Quetzalcoatl. I would know something of the future."
"Be wise, oh my master! Let the future alone; it is sown with sorrows
for all you love."
"Until I wrong the gods why should I fear them? Have done, Paba. I,
too, am a priest," said Montezuma, earnestly.
"I, his true servant, tell you never again to look for smile from
Tlapalla. I will show you from Quetzalcoatl himself, that the end of
your empire is at hand. Every breeze from the east is filled with woe
for you and yours. The writing is on the wall. Look again and
closely."
"I see nothing," cried the king.
"All that you have heard about the return of Quetzalcoatl is true. He
is coming to end the days of the Aztecs forever."
"Forever! It cannot be. Read the next panel."
"There is no other, this is the last," answered the Paba sadly.
Montezuma turned quickly to the north wall, but found it without a
single mark. Here indeed was the end.
That night the Aztec king could neither eat nor sleep. The prophecy
was with him all the time. When the morning came he called for his
canoe. From the battlements of Chapultepec, the palace and tomb of his
fathers, he would see the sun rise. If Quetzalcoatl was angered and
meant to wreak vengeance, he naturally supposed the sun, his dwelling
place, would give some warning.
In all the heavens around there was not a fleck when suddenly a cloud
of smoke rushed upward, and across the pathway of the sun, so that
when it crept over the mountain range, it looked like a ball of blood!
Montezuma drew the hood over his face quickly, and his head dropped on
his breast.
The Paba had spoken the truth. Quetzalcoatl was coming! and next
evening a runner sped hotly over the causeway and up the street,
stopping at the gate of the royal palace. He was taken before the king
and shortly after the news went flying over Tenochtitlan, that
Quetzalcoatl had arrived in his huge water-house with wings, and
filled with thunder and lightning! for that was what the Aztecs called
the ships and cannon brought by Cortez.
When Montezuma heard of the terrible massacre in Cholula, he called a
council of wise old men and said:
"Of what use is it, uncles? The gods are against us and resistance is
of no avail. I mourn most for the women and children, and the old and
infirm who are too feeble to fight or fly. For myself and the brave
men around me, we must bare our breasts to the storm and meet it as we
may."
As Cortez neared Tenochtitlan he was met by so many chiefs and nobles
under Montezuma, that it took them an hour to pass before him, and
make their salutation which they did by touching the ground with the
right hand and then carrying it to the forehead. The four nobles
carrying Montezuma on their shoulders, were preceded by three officers
of state bearing gold wands in their hands to show that they came in
peace. The royal palanquin, or chair, in which Montezuma was seated,
blazed with gold, jewels and gaudy feather-work, while the nobles
carrying it were barefooted. They walked with slow measured steps and
kept their eyes bent on the ground. Finally the train of warriors and
nobles halted, and Montezuma came forward to meet Cortez.
Imagine what their feelings must have been as they looked at each
other! Montezuma thought he was welcoming back the gentle, kind
Quetzalcoatl, whom we know as the Golden Hearted, while Cortez knew he
had found more gold and riches than he ever dreamed existed anywhere.
The poor misled Aztec king approached the Spanish adventurer and
putting an exquisitely wrought gold collar around his neck said:
"This was my father's palace but it belongs to you and your brethren.
Rest here after your fatigues and in a little while I will visit you
again."
When he went out of the palace he sent slaves to wait upon them, and
he gave each one new clothes, and a splendid feast. When they had
finished eating, the rude soldiers searched all through the palace for
hidden wealth, and finding the treasure house of the king proceeded to
help themselves. When Montezuma heard of it he said:
"They are welcome to the gold and silver and other articles, if they
will but spare the things belonging to the gods."
In the palace grounds where they were quartered they found an aviary
filled with beautiful singing birds; a menagerie full of strange
animals, and snakes; ten big tanks stocked with water-fowl and fish;
fountains playing everywhere, and wonderful floating gar
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