Part 7

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.

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."

"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."

"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.

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."