Part 1
The Cities of the Sun
Stories of Ancient America founded on historical incidents in the Book of Mormon
By Elizabeth Rachel Cannon
Illustrated from paintings by Geo. M. Ottinger and photographs by the Author
_SECOND AND ENLARGED EDITION_
Salt Lake City, Utah 1911
"Builded on the ruins of dead thrones Whose temple walls were old when Thebes was new, On altars whose weird sacrificial stones With ghastly offerings were crimson through, Oblivion hides and holds thy secrets fast, The dust of ages lies upon thy past, All-wonderful, mysterious Mexico."
CONTENTS.
THE MARTYR.
I. The King's Council
II. The Revel
III. The Execution
IV. The Waters of Mormon
V. The Flight
VI. The Abduction
VII. The Revenge
THE GADIANTONS.
I. The Gossips at the Fountain
II. In the Patio of Miriam
III. The Balcony
IV. The Triumph
GENERAL MORONI.
I. The Capitulation of the Lamanites
II. Moroni Raises the Standard of Liberty
III. Amalickiah
IV. Nemesis Overtakes Amalickiah
AMMON'S MISSION TO THE LAMANITES.
I. Ammon Embarks on a Mission
II. The Cattle Herder
III. The Trance
IV. The Journey
V. In Prison
WEST WITH THE SHIPS OF HAGOTH
I. The Shipwreck
THE CITY IN THE GLOOM.
I. The Last of His Tribe
II. Alone
THE CONQUEST OF Aida
I. The Plot
II. Aida Dances before Akish
III. Fruition
IV. Reaping the Whirlwind
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Zara
Alma Loitered in the Perfumed Gardens
Alma Baptizing in the Waters of Mormon
The Sacrificial Stone
The Lamanite Girl was Pretty
With One Foot Chained to the Rock the Gadianton Robber Fought and Vanquished Eight Warriors
Hall of the Monoliths, Mitla
Palace Ruins at Mitla
Zorabel
Moroni Raises the Standard of Liberty
Aztec God of War
Amalickiah Sent the Corpse of Her Husband to the Lamanite Queen
Amalickiah Sacked the Coast Cities and Put Hirza to the Sword
Bas-relief of Ancient Warrior
Alla Deriding the Idols
Ruins of the Palace of the Indian King
The Island Chief
The Cliff Dweller's Daughter
The Corn Crib of the City in the Gloom
The Stairs that Lead to the Top of the Pyramid
Pyramid of the Sun, Mexico
Jared was Murdered as he Descended from his Throne
They Brought her Baby Boy in, Dying upon his Shield
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
The end justifies the means, so these stories are designed to increase interest in the Book of Mormon. Hundreds of books have been written founded on the Bible, and there are some wonderfully colorful accounts of the founding of Christianity in Judea, Alexandria, and Rome. It is surprising that more has not been done dealing with the ancient history of the western world. Several of these stories were first published in the _Improvement Era_, and acknowledgement is made to that magazine for the encouragement it extended to the author, who traveled twice to Mexico and excavated amon the ruins there to gain information at first hand. If any boy or girl, after perusing these pages, is inspired to turn direct to the beautiful and simple language of the Book of Mormon itself, the purpose of "The Cities of the Sun" has been accomplished.
The Cities of the Sun
Stories of Ancient America, Founded on Historical Incidents in the Book of Mormon.
THE MARTYR.
I.
THE KING'S COUNCIL.
"What now, Amulon? Why so gloomy? Upon my word, you have not smiled for a week," and King Noah affectionately slapped his favorite's shoulder.
"I'll warrant me it's a woman," continued the king, when the other vouchsafed no reply, "for nothing else would move you."
"And what if it were?" answered the other moodily. "Would talking about it mend matters?"
"There is only one cure for a broken heart," and Noah wagged his head sagely.
"And that is--?"
"Another love."
"H'm."
"Among the thousand women of the court, are there not maids that please you? Women of all types grace the gardens of the city of Lehi-Nephi. Would you have a rose, a violet, a magnolia, a lily, a passion flower or a tulip? Pluck it." And he nodded toward the court of the women.
"Need I remind thee, O King, who art the prince of love, that when a man wants one woman--"
The king threw back his head and laughed until his fat sides shook.
"And who is the lady that dares withstand the bold Amulon?"
The king's face displayed the first interest it had worn that day, as he lolled on the crimson cushions that extended before his golden throne. He and his priests sat in the Hall of the Ambassadors, adjoining the great stone amphitheatre used for large assemblies. The hall where the king held his court was richly beautiful with its tiled floor, its ivory-tinted walls and the great gilded chairs of the thirty priests who constituted the king's council. All morning they had been attending to affairs of state, dealing principally with taxes, for the dissolute king maintained his magnificence with one-fifth of his people's produce.
The moment was propitious and Amulon hastened to explain. "The maid, O King, is Zara, the daughter of Gideon, who opposes my suit."
"What, do you court the father? Make good with the girl."
"I cannot. She will have none of me."
For Amulon, who owed his title of favorite to his intrepidity and unscrupulousness, to acknowledge himself beaten was highly amusing.
"The girl has been a companion to her father and has imbibed his notions," her lover continued. "If she were moved into another atmosphere she might change her mind. Association with the gracious Princess Otalitza would certainly mend her manners."
"So you want--"
"Her brought to the palace."
The king scowled. "Amulon, I can deny you nothing. Let the girl be brought. But look you," he added quickly, "she is to be in the train of the princess. Hands off, for awhile, you understand. Her father is a good soldier, and might cause trouble."
"You will send your orders?" said Amulon, following up his advantage.
"The palanquin shall fetch her today."
Both men looked up. Noises of turmoil and commotion came from the doorway. Half a dozen soldiers, dragging a limp figure, burst into the room. They were followed by a howling mob that shouted, "Away with him! Down with the prophet!"
As they hauled the man over before the dais, the twenty odd priests leaned forward with interest, while one exclaimed, "It is the Prophet Abinadi!"
"Aye, Abinadi, whom I found in the plaza reviling thee, O king," exclaimed Himni, a priest, from the mob.
Noah looked down upon a tall man with straggling gray hair. In spite of his manacled hands, the buffetings of the soldiers and the jeers of the multitude, his thin lips curved in a scornful smile and his defiant face showed no sign of fear.
"What are the charges?" asked the king.
"He promises bondage and dire calamities to the people, and thy life, O King, he says, will be as a garment in a flame of fire. Who is this man that he should judge thee?"
The great, purple veins stood out on the king's forehead and he exclaimed angrily, "Take him to prison!"
The priests crowded up expectantly, for though Noah was not loved, yet he was feared; but Omner petitioned, "Let us question this pretender that we may confound him."
"Yes, surely, the Lord must confide all wisdom to his prophets," scoffed Nehor.
So they plied him with questions, and to their astonishment he answered them boldly. "Why do you, the priests of the Lord, who are supposed to teach the people, ask these things of me? You cannot teach what you do not practice. You are wine-bibbers and revelers. You set the example of sensuousness and law-breaking, and seek not the kingdom of heaven, but the riches of the world."
The king turned wearily. "Away with this fellow," he said, "and slay him, for he is mad."
"Touch me not," commanded the prophet, "until I have delivered my message; then do with me as you will."
He spoke with such dignity and authority that they listened while he preached with the power of God. He dwelt on the law of Moses, then, a wondrous light illumining his face, he told them about the Messiah. How a new star should appear in the heavens and there should be continuous light for the space of three days, while far across the seas a child should be born in poverty, of a lowly virgin, and he should be the Son of God. The child should grow to be a man, despised and rejected of men. A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, who would suffer himself to be mocked and scourged, and cast out and disowned by his people. And after working many mighty miracles among the children of men, he would be crucified and slain. Thus would the spirit triumph over the flesh and he should bring to pass the resurrection of the dead.
"And where will you be, you priest of Satan, on that day?" he cried, working himself into a frenzy. "I tell you that the wicked shall have cause to howl, and weep, and wail, and gnash their teeth!"
Then he launched into such a fierce denunciation of the court, that the priests looked at each other aghast, and the king turned a sickly green. Abinadi lashed himself into a fury as he pictured the torments of the wicked, until his body swayed with the power of his imaginings. Calming himself, finally, he commanded: "Repent ye, teach the law of Moses, also teach that it is a shadow of those things which are to come. Teach them that redemption cometh through Christ, the Lord, who is the very Eternal Father." He ceased speaking.
"Take him away and put him to death."
Then Alma, the sweet-spirited one among the priests, young, but wise in council, stepped forward, the sunlight glinting on his fair hair.
"This man has spoken the truth, and when, in all the reign of the just Noah, was a man put to death for speaking the truth?"
"He said that the king's life should be as a garment in a hot furnace," cried Himni vindictively.
Amulon, who hated Alma for reasons of his own, smiled as he mockingly exclaimed, "What! has the gentle Alma turned prophet? Presently we shall have a pair of them."
The king motioned for the guards to remove the prisoner, and turning on his heel he leaned affectionately on the arm of Amulon and passed out, leaving Alma biting his lips with vexation and choking with humiliation.
II.
THE REVEL
A solitary figure crossed the court on the pyramid, where the cluster of state buildings was located. Although he went toward the palace, he lagged like an unwelcome guest at a feast. The night was not cold but he shivered and wrapped his cloak around him. Behind him lay the great stone amphitheatre, with its tier after tier of seats, vaulted by the starlit sky. To the north loomed the great temple, surmounted by its tower. The somber blackness was relieved only by the sacred fire that burned on top. Ahead of him reposed the royal palace, resplendent as a jewel in its setting of perfumed gardens. Sounds of music and revelry issued from the casement, and the guest stopped to take a deep breath of the sweet night air before he plunged into the hot-house brilliance beyond.
As he entered the great banquet hall, many eyes turned that way. Alma had thrown off his cloak, displaying a purple tunic that enhanced the gold of his hair and the blue of his eyes. His short robe was caught in at the waist by a girdle of sapphires, and his lower limbs were bare save for the thongs of buckskin, extending from his sandals, which were strapped around them. It was not the beauty of the graceful young cavalier that attracted attention, but the whisper had gone forth that he was out of favor at court. That was what had brought him there to face it out, to show he was not afraid. For the most part, the guests whose brains were not addled with wine were absorbed in their own affairs, for the hour was late and the diners at the banquet table, which was heavy with its gold and silver service, were on the last course. It consisted of dainty dishes of snow, brought on the backs of men from the distant volcano, delicately flavored with the grated rind of limes. Goblets brimming with odoriferous wines were constantly being refilled, but the real revelry was just begun. Before morning the great jars that stood on the buffet, that extended all around the great banquet room, would be overturned and emptied. Beside them were baskets laden with fruit--the gold of the tropics--bunches of purple grapes, pomegranates, tunas, oranges, pineapples, bananas, achuacates (the butter that grows on trees) and wild plums.
Above these, on the wall, was a fresco of naiads, while the magnificent ceiling was of green and gold. Oh, he had an eye for beauty, had King Noah;--too much for his good. A crowd of musicians played barbaric music, a troupe of acrobats performed in an ante room, while from the corridor came peals of laughter.
Alma ran his eye along the table. The king leered into the face of the ever-present Amulon, while on his left the buffoon, Omo, discoursed coarse jests. Suddenly Alma's heart stood still and then sickened. Could that be Zara, the daughter of Gideon, in the party of the princess? Yes, it was Zara, looking more radiant than ever. What was she doing in the palace of the king? From the shadow of the curtains he watched her with troubled eyes. A smile played on her expressive face and her eyes were bright with excitement. He waited impatiently until they rose from the table, but before he could get to her she was gone.
A few minutes later she appeared with the dancers. How beautiful she looked, cream robed, with golden orchids in her hair! The intoxication of the dance set his blood to throbbing, but he noticed with rising resentment that he was not the only one interested in the new beauty. Alma wandered around the hall shunned by all, for it is not wise to flatter the one on whom the king frowns. He watched his chance, then went to speak to Zara. She rose to meet him, and there was genuine pleasure in her tone.
"Why, Alma, I've been looking for you so long."
"Is that what brought you here, my lady?" he asked tensely.
"It was the king's palanquin that brought me here," she answered archly.
His brow lowered. "Perhaps the same conveyance will carry you back?"
"Perhaps."
"Zara, I don't like to see you here."
"Why not? It is glorious! I love the magnificence of the court. It is breath to my nostrils. I have never lived before."
"Your eyes are blinded by the gilded surface and you do not see the rottenness beneath. When you know it as well as I--" and he laughed bitterly. "I cannot understand," he added soberly, "how your father allows you here, when he objected to me simply because I belonged to the court, though I hate everything that is connected with it."
"My father--you might know--he did not send me here. I came by the order of the king."
Alma looked startled. "Do you know what for?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "No one asks his reasons of the king."
"Yes, but there is a reason. You had better go away from here, my lady. This is no place for you."
"I cannot," she said simply. "Besides, I tell you, Alma, it is not the place, but the person. A pure-minded person can be good anywhere, the evil always find means to sate their appetites."
"No one is safe in the palace; you must go away."
"If I should leave, what then? I should be brought back again. You are satiated with all this. It opens a new world to me. I intend to see it," she cried, almost angrily.
She turned to talk to some young bloods, who were hovering around her, and Alma was dismissed. Realizing his failure with the girl, he turned his steps toward the king. If he were not in disfavor, he might have her released. At least there was a chance to find out why she was there, he argued.
He approached the throne, bowed, and murmured, "I have a petition to make, your majesty."
The king stared coolly past him, as if he did not see him, and went on talking to Amulon, while Alma retreated, reddening to the ears, as a titter arose behind palm leaf fans. His disgrace was now complete, and he thought the next move would be assassins. "Well, Abinadi, you may have company," he muttered. He wandered aimlessly about in a daze, finally going to the gaming tables for, though he did not gamble himself, he hoped to drown his misery in the excitement of the players.
* * * * *
Zara stood in the shadow of the palms at the entrance to the patio. The revel was beginning to pall on her with its grossness. True, the musicians had been replaced with others, and as she listened, the strains of "The Heavens for a Kiss" floated out to her. Many of the lights were out and what remained burned badly, but they were sufficient to display sights from which her whole soul shrank. Omo lay across the end of the table, his bull neck kinked so his heavy breathing could be heard all over the room. Omner had tipped over a wine jar, and lay on the floor with his head in a red pool that looked like blood. Himni was pouring cold water down the neck of a servant girl, while he explained that it would make her lips red. Mulek's dominating voice roared above all others. Some callow youths were trying to sing. Nobody knew where the king was. Most of the girls had departed, and Zara, for the first time, felt lonely and scared. She wished Alma would come. She heard a footstep behind her; then a door pulled to. She listened, thinking it was he.
"So, I have found you at last, my dove!"
She uttered a startled cry and looked up to see the great form of Amulon towering above her. His eyes glowed like fires in the dark.
"Come!" he coaxed. "How these arms have ached for you!"
"Let me go!" she cried fiercely, struggling, like a frightened bird in his grasp.
"Fight away, my pretty. My, how tigerish we are! I faith, I believe that is why I love you!"
"I shall cry for help."
"Who is there to hear you?"
"I shall expose you to the king."
"He will not believe you."
"Then Alma shall intercede in my behalf."
Amulon laughed. "Alma! he is already a doomed man."
"My father shall carry my case before the king!" she cried in a panic.
"Why did the king have you brought here? To grace the train of Otalitza, when there are a hundred women fighting for the place you occupy? Why, I say, except at my request? If you spurn me, the king will claim you. Take your choice."
Seeing the hopelessness of her case, woman's wit, which has been her chief weapon since the world began, came to her rescue. She slipped up her arms and encircled his head, kissing his handsome, bruised-looking lips.
"Amulon," she whispered, "I am not a slave to be coerced. What I do, I must do of my own free will, without force."
"You are right," he said, won by her speedy capitulation. He instantly freed her, for he was as generous as he was passionate.
"Your lips are like the desert and your brow is fevered. See, I will bath it in the fountain." She darted forward, and as he stumbled after her and fell headlong on the pavement, she did not stop to look back, but kept right on.
* * * * *
The breeze that precedes the dawn was stirring when a white-robed figure stole out on the roof garden of the palace. She started back when, on turning a corner, she was confronted by a man muffled in a long cloak.
"Zara!"
"Oh, Alma, I am so glad!" and she wrung her hands in relief.
"Why are you here alone at this time?"
"I could not sleep. So many strange things have happened. And you?"
"I could not sleep, either. I searched for you, last night, but could not find you. Where did you go?"
"To the inner patio."
"With whom?"
"Amulon."
"Amulon! So, that is why you came to the palace?"
"He said as much."
"And I have ruined myself at court through espousing the cause of the Prophet Abinadi."
"So Amulon intimated."
"Where is he?"
"Down the well, for aught I know. I fled from him, and he gave chase. He was half drunk and stumbled over the fountain curbing, but whether he pitched in or not I do not know. I didn't stop to look back."
"He didn't; trust his luck for that. And you? How did you get out?"
"Why, through the court of the lions, of course."
"They might have killed you."
"So I thought; but the king's ocelots are well fed. They did not care to get up to dine off me in the middle of the night."
The rainbow colors of the dawn of the tropics illumined the sky to the east, and below, the hills were swathed in pearl gray mist. Alma breathed deep as he looked at Zara, fresh and radiant as the morning itself. The fleecy robe she had slipped on parted at the throat, her dark head was swathed in a pale blue gauze, broidered with silver stars, and not all the turmoil of the night could disguise the fact that she was young and glad to be alive. As she lifted a slender, rounded, white arm to indicate the violet and orange of the horizon, Alma caught her in his arms.
"Come with me," he whispered, "away from this wicked place. Let me teach you the principles of Abinadi. Together let us live our lives as he has taught, in conformity with the will of the Lord."
"Abinadi!" she murmured. "I already believe in him, although he has taught the strange doctrine that we must return good for evil, instead of demanding an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But you must teach me. Alma," she added fearfully, "for there are many things I do not understand. And this strange doctrine of repentance, that they talk so much about--"
"The king had better take to heart," Alma finished grimly. "Would that the scales might fall from his eyes, as they have from mine!"
"He is going to put Abinadi to death?"
"So I fear."
"And you?"
"Oh, I shall take up the work where he left off. I'm afraid his mantle will fall on unworthy shoulders. I have carefully written down all his words, and I shall teach them to the people when he is gone. I consecrate my life to the work. God grant me strength and light to do it well!"
"Does Abinadi know?"
"Yes; I go now to visit him in his cell."
"Tarry a little, Sir Prophet," she commanded, running her hand through his yellow hair.
Together they watched the sun rise. The mocking birds sang riotously. The lavender flowers of the bougainvilaea drooped in the garden, while from the patio below the air came laden with the heavy odor of the blossom called "The Perfume of the Night." The lovers did not notice that with it was mingled the scent of the ill-omened "Flower of the Dead."
III.
THE EXECUTION.
The great market place was the heart of the city. The streets, like so many arteries, emptied into its pulsating center. There all the buying and selling went on. Here was a fruit stand from which a bronze Lamanitish goddess flicked the flies. Yonder was a clothier's containing garments of chameleon dyes. There were cafes, candy stands, butcher shops, fish from the lake, venders of pottery, and makers of lace. The band played there in the afternoon, and lovers sought the shade of its arbors in the evening.
This morning something of unusual occurrence was about to happen. People were running hither and thither. There was a hushed murmur of excitement among the crowds, which were larger than on any market day. Four regiments of soldiers were stationed at the comers, while a fifth was keeping the people back from an open space in the middle of the square.
"Wherefore the crowd?" asked the countryman who had just brought his cart of vegetables to the city that morning, of a young man who was hurrying to the scene.
The other looked at him in surprise, "Why, they are going to burn the Prophet Abinadi."
"They're not going to burn him alive?"
"How do you think they'd burn him--dead?" he threw back over his shoulder, as he hurried on.
The crowd was impatient.
"Light the fire, and let us see if this false prophet is pluckily true to his convictions."
"What are they waiting for?" called another.
There was a blare of trumpets, a blast of martial music, and then the cry, "Make way for the king!"