Part 6

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.

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."

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."

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.

"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.

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."