in the air; also was she piqued by this Nephite prophet who ignored
her. When she came into the room, beheld the trio on their knees and
her father risen from his bed, she uttered shriek after shriek. The
frightened servants came running, and when they saw the king risen from
the dead they also fell upon their knees.
One alone, Abish, a waiting woman, who had been converted to the gospel
sometime before, retained her presence of mind.
"It is the power of God," she opined, and ran carrying the news from
house to house.
A vast multitude assembled and when they beheld the spectacle at the
palace and noted the Nephite in the strange group, they began to murmur.
"A great evil has come among us," cried one.
"Nay, let it fall on the king's head for harboring the alien,"
interposed another.
Still others said, "The king has brought destruction on himself for
killing his servants when they lost the herds at Sebus."
The friends of the men whom Ammon had slain there heaped their
maledictions on the Nephite. One, whose brother had been killed,
obsessed with frenzy, drew his sword, and rushed at Ammon, but as he
raised his blade to strike him, he himself reeled and fell dead. Was it
apoplexy, a deep seated heart trouble, or had the Lord, who promised
Ammon that he should pass unscathed through perils, struck him down?
The awestruck populace did not know.
"This man is the Great Spirit," said one clinging to some vestiges of
the old faith.
"He is a monster," disagreed another.
They straightway quarreled over the matter; the crowd took sides. A
clash was imminent whereat Abish burst into tears. In this emergency
she went over to the queen, and tenderly helped her to her feet. The
latter's face was radiant as she took hold of the hand of the king. He
confronted the multitude. In few words he endorsed the work of Ammon.
His conversion was wrought during his trance. From that time forth he
was the missionary's ablest advocate.
That night a great feast was given to celebrate the recovery of the
king. The palace gardens were thrown open to the people. Bands played
on the terraces, fountains sprayed by the lurid light of the bon fires,
and the moonlight kissed the lake. The whole city rejoiced in gala
attire, while the attaches of the palace, relieved from the recent
strain, relapsed into abandon. The queen's heart expanded toward all
mankind; the king, snatched from the grave, lorded it graciously over
his subjects. The nobles exchanged merry quips and the banquet was long
drawn out. People treated Ammon with semi-worship. He was in an exalted
frame of mind for he knew that his work was auspiciously begun.
Blinded with the lights and deafened with the noise, he felt faint,
and clambered out into the open air to walk beneath the stars. Back
and forth he paced when he heard his name called in a soft voice. He
wheeled to behold Alla beneath the rubber plants. As he went towards
her, she, in her yellow robes against the dark green of the foliage,
reminded him more than ever of a gorgeous butterfly.
"I have not had a chance to thank you before for what you did for my
father," she said between sips of fruit juice.
Ammon disclaimed credit, saying it was all due to the power of the Lord.
"I want you to help me tonight. Come into the garden. We will have to
hurry, or Hebron, who went to fetch me an ice, will be back."
Without more ado she took hold of his arm and hastily urged him down
the stairs. On reaching the garden she plucked a burning brand from the
fire and led him through dark, circuitous paths beneath the umbrella
trees till the roof of a round topped building loomed before them.
"Be careful of the steps," she cautioned as she started to descend into
it, but she herself jumped when a black beetle fell from one of the
overhanging branches. He came to her rescue and together they entered
the underground chamber. Ammon looked about him curiously. The place
was lined with hewn stone. He laid his hand on a porphyry vase that
contained incense.
"See," Alla held the light up to the wall. "These paintings depict the
principal events in my father's life."
Ammon's eyes followed the intricate designs without grasping their
meaning.
"You will notice," she continued, "that the other side of the room is
blank. That space is kept for the scenes yet to come."
"But if he should die--" his gaze traveled to the middle of the room
where reposed a marble sarcophagus with its maw gaping wide for the
dead.
She read his thoughts, "Yes, this is my father's tomb. The lid was
removed when we thought we would have to bring him here. He must not
see it in this condition. I dared not bring the servants to shut it,
for they talk. You are strong, will you not lift the lid back into
place?"
The missionary bent his shoulders to the task. He clutched the marble
slab in his arms, rocked for a moment under its weight, then closed it
down on the tomb.
"So it is cheated of its occupant," he finished.
"I hope it stays sealed a long time," sighed Alla.
The torch flickered out and they stumbled out of the musty tomb into
the garden scented with honey suckle blooms. They found their way
to the rose garden whose charms Ammon had never known before. The
excitement of the day had not yet worn off and the allurement of the
tropics got into his blood. Seeing the city gone wild with pleasure,
gave rise to resentment that he should be cheated of it. With parched
lips he thirsted to quaff this sweet cup that was held to his lips. He
glanced at his companion, natural and more fair than any wild thing in
the woods. Seized with moon madness the couple wandered down to the
sluggish waters of the lake.
"Yonder is my chinampa,--my floating garden." She indicated a black
oasis. "When I grow weary of the world I flee to it and while the day
away on the bosom of the waters. I have there a little chapel filled
with the images of our Lamanite gods. Would you like to see them?"
Ammon assented, so she clambered over the rocks and shot out her canoe.
They took their places in it and the man drove it across the lake with
broad strokes.
Alla fell silent. What availed all her little vanities in the presence
of this man who read her very soul. He was her master; already she
worshiped him. The calm also gave Ammon time to think of where his
folly led him. Even if he should marry, this creature of impulse was
not the woman for him. Linked with his austere life she would beat her
brilliant wings out and become a limp, draggled thing. He could not
spoil her life. On the other hand, if he made her happy, his mission
would have to be abandoned. If she were only different. Then he
reflected a little sadly that if she were anything but what she was he
would not love her.
As if to make his resolve harder she broke the silence. "You remember
that day when we first met, my father offered me to you?"
He inclined his head.
"You said then, 'The women of my country choose their own husbands.'
Would it make any difference if the woman offered herself to you?"
Ammon felt a sharp twinge of pain, but he steadied his voice. "No. You
remember that I said afterward that a missionary cannot marry."
"That day, smarting with hurt pride, I determined that I would make you
love me. Now, I wish I hadn't." They had reached the island and she
hid her confusion in landing. The garden was one bouquet of fragrant
posies. Their feet sank into long moss beneath, while festoons of
Spanish moss draped above. Alia led the Nephite to a grotto, whence
issued the sound of running water. The sanctuary was built around a
gurgling spring. Dark and dismal, it was but illy lighted by the white
moonlight that streamed in.
"These are the images of the gods of the Lamanites." She indicated huge
figures carved in stone that lay about the place. "This is Tlalac, god
of rain; yonder the goddess of grain." Stroking the most hideous idol
she added, "This is Huitzil, god of war."
Ammon's eyes were fastened on a slender white cross reared in front of
the last.
"That is the symbol of your religion, for I saw a little cross hanging
around your neck. I have embraced your faith and I brought the new
symbol here in their own temple to deride the fallen idols."
Ammon, deeply touched, took off his own chain and fastened the pendant
crucifix around the neck of the girl. She reached up to thank him. For
a moment he felt his head reel. Then very gently he took hold of her
arms and pushed her away from him. As they stood thus the sound of a
paddle fell on their startled ears. They both started back and then
Ammon impulsively stepped out to the edge of the water. He saw Hebron,
a noble who paid court to Alla, rowing alone on the lake. He hailed
him. "The Princess Alla came here to show me the ancient idols. Will
you not take her back."
Hebron, who was surprised to find the lady that he had missed earlier
in the evening, came up with alacrity. If Ammon had a momentary flash
of jealousy as he helped Alla in, it was soon dispelled, for she
crouched down in the further end of the boat in a dejected heap, her
poor little wreath of flowers drooping forlornly in her hair. Still as
a statue he watched them speed across the lake. When they touched shore
and the man arose to help her out, he turned away his eyes, for they
were blinded with tears.
"It is better so," he muttered with finality. He took the other canoe
and resolutely turned his back on the scene. He plowed viciously
through the water until his mighty arms ached. When he had worn himself
out he landed on the opposite shore of the lake.
In the shadow of the giant trees he walked. The hoary cypresses held
the secrets of a thousand years, but never before had they witnessed
such a struggle in the soul of a man. When the hateful dawn came
stealing through the branches, wan and haggard, Ammon sought his cell.
Never before had it seemed so bare, nor the hard bed more uninviting.
At his order prison doors should break and kings should bow the knee,
but the greatest thing that Ammon ever did was to conquer himself, that
night.
IV.
THE JOURNEY.
Ammon and the king had been playing totoloque, a game of ball, in
the garden. Lamoni sat himself down to rest, for the heat of the day
approached.
"Ammon, I would have had you for a son, but I must needs be content to
keep you for a friend."
"It is an honor to be counted the friend of the king," he retorted,
ignoring the first part of the remark.
"Alla takes it rather hard." An amused twinkle came into the father's
eye. "She has been unbearable since you refused her."
"I have consecrated my life to the work of the Lord, Alla is too young
and fair a creature to be tied to a somber personage like me."
"Your church is well started here. Let me take you to Nephi to meet my
father, the emperor. He would like such a man as you."
"He is not a believer. He would seek my life. Moreover, I must journey
in the opposite direction to Middoni for my elder brother Aaron and his
friends, Muloki and Ammah, are in prison there. I go to deliver them."
"I know that in the strength of the Lord you can do all things, but I
shall go with you. Antiomno, king of Middoni, is a friend of mine and
I will flatter him that he will release your brethren from prison." He
added curiously. "Who told you that they were in prison?"
"The voice of the Lord. Much of the power you attribute to me is gained
through listening to the inner spirit that always prompts me aright."
Without question the king ordered his chariots and horses to be got
ready for the journey. "We will travel together," he said. "Perhaps I
may be able to help even you."
When a king journeyed it meant the moving of a cavalcade. That they
might travel faster, Lamoni simplified his preparations. Besides his
immediate servants he took only a small body guard. As he went as the
guest of a neighboring king, what he lacked in number he made up in
magnificence. He remarked to Ammon as they started out that they would
fall an easy prey to robbers who could see their gold from afar off.
To give color to his predictions, they had not gone far when they
descried a cloud of dust across the plains.
"Whoever they are, they far outnumber us." They had all been straining
their eyes when Lamoni raised a shout. "It is my father, the old king
himself. Only the ruler of all the Lamanites would travel with such a
concourse."
The new comers bore rapidly down on them, and soon the heavy chariot
of the emperor shot out and pulled up along side of them. The old man
embraced his son but scowled at the white man.
"Why didn't you come to my feast?" he demanded. "And where are you
going with this Nephite, who is the son of a liar?"
"I accompany him to get his brother out of prison in Middoni." He
explained his absence at the feast by telling how he had lain as if
dead for two days, and would probably have been buried alive had it not
been for the missionary.
To his astonishment his father became furiously angry. "I am astonished
that you have been caught in their toils. These Nephites have come here
to rob you. Kill this man with your sword. Then turn about and come
back to Ishmael with me."
His son defied him: "I will not slay Ammon, neither will I return
to the land of Ishmael, but I go to Middoni that I may release the
brethren of Ammon, for I know that they are just men, and holy prophets
of the true God."
Enraged by his disobedience, his father raised his sword to strike him.
Ammon interposed, "You shall not slay your son, though he is better
prepared for death than you for he has repented. If you should kill him
his blood would cry from the ground, and you might lose your soul."
The old man hesitated; his voice almost broke. "I know that if I should
slay my son I should shed innocent blood. It is you that I ought to
kill." He turned his blade toward Ammon, but the latter was too quick
for him. He whipped out his own sword and with the stroke that had
stood him in good stead at Sebus, he disabled the king's right arm.
He could not use it. Realizing that the other was at his mercy, Ammon
followed up his advantage. "I will smite you unless you grant that my
brethren be released from prison."
Lamoni would not interfere. The retainers kept at a respectful
distance. In fear of his life the emperor promised, "If you will spare
me, I will give you anything you ask, even to half my kingdom."
The Nephite had the old man where he wanted him. "Release my brethren
from prison. Let Lamoni retain his kingdom. Be not displeased with him;
allow him to be his own master. Then I shall spare you; otherwise I
strike."
The emperor's temporary feeling of relief at being spared from this
whirlwind Nephite who swept everything before him, was supplanted by
wonder. Ammon had asked for nothing for himself,--only for favors for
Lamoni. Should he let a stranger be more generous than he? Touched by
the missionary's love for his son, he rejoined, "Because this is all
you have asked, I shall have your brethren cast out of prison. My son,
Lamoni, may retain his kingdom from this time and forever, and I will
govern him no more."
"Come, let the mid-day meal be prepared," exclaimed Lamoni, overjoyed
at the turn affairs had taken. "We will eat together."
A hastily served meal it was, that consisted mostly of cooked meat and
bread taken from leather pouches, but to the diners it was relished
with the sauce of interest.
The two rulers asked each other many questions. They exchanged much
news of family and national interest. The emperor asked eagerly after
his granddaughter Alla. Lamoni, looking at Ammon out of the tail of his
eye, explained that she was temporarily indisposed.
They took their siesta during the heat of the day while the attendants
watered the animals. In the late afternoon when they arose to continue
their journey, the emperor took an affecting leave of his son. Slipping
off two gold bands that had encircled his left arm, he held one out
to Lamoni, "Give this to Antiomno, to aid your quest. Say it is from
the emperor, though, if rumor be correct, a gift from Alla might be
appreciated more." He slipped the other bracelet on the arm of Ammon.
"As for you, strange man, that asks nothing for yourself, if perchance
you should think of something, bring this to the king, and he will
redeem his pledge. The doctrine that holds such an exponent as you
cannot be wholly wrong. You and your brethren come up to me to my
capitol at Nephi, for I would know you better."
With that he took his departure. As the cavalcade wound across the
plains, Lamoni and Ammon continued their journey to Middoni.
The herald of their coming had preceded them, for Antiomno, accompanied
by his nobles, sallied out to meet them. The two rulers hailed each
other like boon companions. After the formalities of greeting had been
exchanged, the young Antiomno ventured to enquire after the health of
the Princess Alla.
"So even when I leave her at home, I cannot get rid of the minx!"
laughed Lamoni. "Take this cue from me, oh king, she is disconsolate.
A sore heart is impressionable. It is ever ready to attach itself to
something else. She has been disappointed."
"I will remember it," said Antiomno. "You may expect me to return your
visit."
Lamoni looked relieved. There were still hopes of marrying his daughter
off. After they reached the palace and had refreshed themselves from
the journey, Antiomno was much astonished to learn that he owed the
honor of the king's visit to some imprisoned missionaries that he had
never heard of before.
"They may be here," he admitted dubiously, "I shall send and find out."
Leaving Lamoni to be entertained by his royal host, Ammon took his way
toward the prison in search of his brethren.
[Illustration: RUINS OF THE PALACE OF THE INDIAN KING]
V.
IN PRISON.
The guard admitted Ammon on his passport. As they passed through the
corridors of the jail, he eagerly scanned every group of prisoners in
anticipation of recognizing a familiar form. When they reached the
large sunny courtyard in the middle of the rambling buildings his hopes
ran high, for the place was crowded. Here were the prisoners accused
of petty thieving. In the center, in a murky looking fountain, a
bronze Hercules bathed his mighty shoulders. Others fashioned sandals,
wove baskets, or arranged ingenious feather work. One clever person
manufactured a tiny stringed instrument out of bits of wood that he
inlaid with mother of pearl. Queer sight in a jail incarcerating
thieves, wrought the jewelers, tracing filigree work out of gold.
Another group cooked over clay ovens filled with glowing charcoal. The
attendant explained to Ammon that the trinkets were sold to defray the
expenses of board. Prisoners were dependent on their own ingenuity or
the bounty of their friends for their food, a condition which explained
the presence of women with baskets who hovered about the jail, waiting
to send in cooked delicacies to their enchained lords and masters.
Aaron was not there. The visitor was conducted through musty chambers
and oozy passages very different from the breezy courtyard vaulted by
the sapphire sky. So far did they go that Ammon almost began to suspect
foul play. The guard threw open a door.
"The missionaries are here."
Stumbling in the dark, he stepped in. As his eyes became accustomed to
the gloom, he distinguished the forms of men almost naked.
"Is my brother Aaron, son of King Mosiah here?" he enquired.
At the sound of his voice a wretch raised himself on a pallet of straw.
He staggered toward him and peered in the new-comers face.
"Ammon!" he exclaimed.
The latter had more difficulty in recognizing in this emaciated, broken
form the brother from whom he had parted in the pride of his youth and
strength.
Genuine grief shook his voice. "Aaron, how did you come to this?"
"It is a long story." He sat down again wearily. "How did you know I
was here?"
"The Spirit of the Lord prompted me to come," he answered simply.
"You have prospered?" He contrasted the fine physique of his brother
with his own gaunt frame, the other's glow of health with his
parchment-like skin.
"Yes, the mission is established at Ishmael. And you?"
"Have met with little success. After I separated from you and our
younger brothers I went to the city of Jerusalem. The people were
hardened, and when I preached in the synagogue, they arose and disputed
with me. When they saw that I had the best of the argument, they mocked
me. They refused to listen. Then I heard that Muloki and Ammah here,
were preaching over in the village of Ani-Anti; I went there. We could
make no converts. We came to Middoni. Though we have preached the word
of God to many, few believed. Then they cast us into prison."
During this recital Ammon had noted the flayed flesh, the mark of the
thongs that had bound them. Ammah came up and greeted him with sunken
eyes. Muloki was too ill to greet him except by a wan smile. There
were two others there whom he did not know. Their plight was pitiable.
Ammon's whole soul revolted against the squalor and foul air of the
place.
"I tried to get word to Omner and Himni, but without avail. We would
have starved to death had it not been for a poor shoemaker, one of the
faith, who has deprived himself to bring us sustenance. It has not been
so bad for us, but Muloki broke down with a disease."
A heavy tramp resounded through the outer corridor. Guards entered.
They were followed by servants who carried clean raiment.
"King Antiomno says that the prisoners are to be released. They are to
be fed and clothed and presented before him. You will step this way to
the baths."
"It means--" cried Aaron.
"That you are free," finished Ammon. "Moreover, I shall give you a
talisman that will assure you of future success in your labors. Take
this bracelet to the emperor. You will convert him; with the head
gained, you can win the nation to the faith."
"And you?"
"I return to Ishmael with my friend Lamoni. I may be called upon to
perform a marriage ceremony there. Our missionary work is just begun."
WEST WITH THE SHIPS OF HAGOTH.
[Illustration: THE ISLAND CHIEF]
The man fought with the waves, throwing out his white arms ever more
feebly. At times it seemed that he must give up, and under would go
the black head, only to reappear again a little nearer the shore,
with eyes bent on those smiling, white sands, that seemed to mock in
derision. Hawai was half defeated by famine before he began the battle.
One of the survivors in the storm-tossed bark, he had seen two of his
companions drown before his eyes, when the craft was dashed to pieces
on the rocks. That sight had cost what strength yet remained in his
exhausted body, for, presently, where his friends had gone down, he
caught a glimpse of the glittering belly of a shark.
Remembering that he had been the best swimmer of the Panama coast, he
struck out with renewed courage, although his limbs were numb, his arms
had lost all sense of feeling, and his face was purple. Dazzled by the
sun-light, the coast seemed ever further away, so he shut his eyes and
floundered blindly on. When he reached the cove, the tide pushed him
gently in, and the sea-foam billowed around him like a bed of down.
When he reached the beach, half senseless, he sank down like a tired
child, but the greedy waves would fain suck him back, so he crawled
higher up, digging his nails into the sand, and tearing his hands till
the blood came, but he gave no heed to that. He could go no further,
his brain reeled, he sank into the oblivion of exhaustion.
Pallid of aspect and slender of form, he lay like a withered lily on
the strand. How long he was in this damp trance he knew not, for the
day was as the night to his congealing blood and dim senses.
With throbbing pulse and aching limbs he came back to consciousness.
As he opened his eyes, he looked into the black eyes of a girl, whose
face bent so low over him that her breath fanned his cheek. As she
chafed his chilled arms, he felt the warmth of life slowly returning.
She raised his faint head and poured water through his blue lips. Soft
hands smoothed the black curls from his death-like forehead, and wrung
his damp locks. The sun came up and warmed him into feeling. Loa, the
girl who had found him on the beach, did not explain that she had tried
for hours to make a fire by striking a knife with flint, as she had
seen the men do. Failing in this, she threw her mantle over the slender
frame, pillowed his head in her lap, and waited for the day.