fine specimen of Uluan manhood, as the visitors presently discovered
when he rose to his feet. Like most Uluans, he was dark complexioned,
his hair, beard and moustache, all of which he wore of patriarchal
length, having been originally black, though now thickly streaked with
grey. His features were well formed, clean cut, and aristocratic
looking, as they might well be, seeing that the man was none other than
Juda, the King of Ulua, and direct descendant of a long line of kings
whose origin was lost in the mists of antiquity. He wore a long sleeved
garment, which reached from his throat to his feet, the colour of it
being red, with a wide border containing an intricate pattern wrought in
black, white and gold braid. On his head he had a kind of turban of
red, black and gold, surrounded by a coronet that appeared to be made of
iron, set with many beautiful stones, while its front was adorned with
an aigrette of crimson feathers, fastened by a brooch which also
appeared to be made of iron. A broad belt, embroidered in red, black
and gold, encircled his waist, attached to which was a great
cross-hilted sword which looked as though it might have originally
belonged to a crusader. His feet were shod with sandals of crimson
leather, and his fingers decorated with several rings, apparently of
wrought iron, each of which was set with a very fine stone, either
emerald, sapphire, ruby, or diamond.
Taken altogether, Juda was a remarkably imposing specimen of manhood,
and a worthy progenitor of his handsome granddaughter, Myrra. She,
however, unlike her grandfather, was fair as a summer's dawn, of medium
height, with violet eyes, and an extraordinary wealth of ruddy-golden
hair which, confined to her head by a fillet of what looked like red
velvet set with precious stones, rolled thence to far below her waist in
great waves. Her outer garment, sleeveless, might have been copied from
those depicted on the Greek vases in the British Museum and, like her
grandfather's, was red in colour, adorned with braiding in the same
colours as his. Her sandals were of white leather, and she wore armlets
and bracelets of beautifully worked iron encrusted with precious stones.
As the two white men, intuitively guessing the identity of those in
whose presence they found themselves, walked slowly up the room, Juda
and Myrra rose to their feet and stood gazing with the utmost interest
at their visitors. Juda's eyes were intently fixed upon the amulet
which Earle now habitually wore fully exposed to view; but after the
first glance, Myrra seemed far more interested in Dick, with his
stalwart frame and good-looking features.
Arrived within some half-a-dozen paces of the two august figures, Earle
and Dick came to a halt and bowed, while Bahrim, who had been bowing
almost to the earth during his progress up the hall, now knelt down,
touched the marble pavement three times with his forehead, and then,
rising to his feet, introduced the visitors in a long speech, which was
of course utterly unintelligible to the white men, though they gathered
from certain of Bahrim's movements and gestures that the incident of the
runaway horses, of Dick stopping them, and of Earle's attentions to
Mishail, the injured charioteer, formed part of the speech.
The two royal personages listened with the closest attention to Bahrim's
long speech, the king nodding emphatic approval as the major-domo, with
much appropriate gesture, described Dick's dash into the road and
stoppage of the runaway horses, while the eyes of the princess flashed
and sparkled with excitement and undisguised admiration at what, from
the expression of the listeners, seemed to be a deed of most
unparalleled heroism. The speech came to an end at last; and then, as
Bahrim stepped back with the air of a man who has performed his duty
well, Juda advanced to Earle and fixed his eyes upon the amulet,
intently examining its every detail. Then, to the amazement of the two
white men, he turned to the princess, addressed a few words to her,
beckoned her to his side, and the next moment the royal pair had
prostrated themselves at Earle's feet, with their foreheads humbly bowed
to the pavement. They remained thus for nearly five minutes, until
Earle, fearing that they were never going to rise from their humble
posture, bent forward, touched each lightly upon the shoulder and,
extending his hands, raised them gently to their feet, when, first Juda,
and then the princess, reverently took the amulet in their hands, raised
it to their foreheads, and bowing low, backed to their seats. The king
then drew a handsome ring from his finger and, beckoning to Dick to draw
near, slipped it on to the corresponding finger of the young
Englishman's hand, while the princess, following suit, transferred one
of her bracelets to Dick's wrist, each with a polite little speech,
which Cavendish greatly regretted his inability to understand. This
little ceremony performed, Juda bowed his dismissal of his visitors,
and, led by Bahrim, the pair retired to their own quarters, a good deal
puzzled by, yet very much pleased with, all that had passed.
As they went Earle turned to Dick and remarked:
"Gee! Dick, I guess this is some amulet, eh, when even a king and a
princess of the blood royal do homage to it. Seems to me that I'm the
most important personage in this realm; and as soon as we are able to
understand the language a bit, and get the hang of things, I mean to use
the power and influence which it bestows for the abolition of a few of
the evils which are sure to exist, either in the religion or the
government of the country."
"If you take my advice, you will leave this people's religion and
politics alone," remarked Dick.
"I will," agreed Earle, "if there is nothing to find fault with, but not
otherwise. Gee! What's the good of possessing such power as mine, if I
don't make use of it? And, civilised as these people are in some
respects, they are centuries behind the rest of the world in others; and
I'm prepared to bet that, when we begin to understand things a bit, we
shall find that there is plenty of room for improvement in a good many
directions. And it is entirely against my principles not to do good
when the opportunity offers. But--well, we shall see."
And now, something like a month passed without anything occurring worthy
of detailed record. Kedah, the instructor told off to teach the two
white men the Uluan language, was indefatigable in the execution of his
rather difficult task, while his pupils were equally indefatigable in
their efforts to master the tongue spoken by all around them, with the
result that they made excellent progress and were no longer obliged to
remain dumb when addressed. They made a good many acquaintances, and
not a few friends, chief among whom were the king and the princess,
whose demeanour toward the white men was, like that of everybody else,
indeed, a curious mingling of reverence and friendliness. They spent a
good deal of time walking and riding about the city and its outskirts,
thus in the course of time becoming intimately acquainted with every
street, road, alley and by-way; while Dick early found an outlet for his
superabundant energies among the shipbuilders, whose ideas concerning
the most desirable model for their craft were of the crudest possible
character. He also discovered that they knew nothing about sails and
how to use them, and he enjoyed himself immensely in rigging one of
their most suitable lighters as a fore-and-aft schooner, and then
watching the crew's amazement and delight as he navigated her across the
lake and back in about a quarter of the time usually occupied upon the
trip.
It was about this time, when their progress under the tuition of Kedah
was so far advanced that they were able to catch a glimmer of the
meaning of what was said to them or in their hearing, that the two white
men began to sense a suggestion of steadily growing excitement among the
populace generally, accompanied, on the part of those with whom they
were more intimately acquainted, by a continually increasing curiosity,
not unmingled with anxiety, concerning themselves and something with
which, in some mysterious manner, they (Dick and Earle) seemed to be
intimately connected. They became aware that they were being keenly
watched, and their slightest words and actions carefully noted, as
though some word or action of extreme significance or importance on
their part was being eagerly expected and watched for. More
particularly was this the case with regard to Earle; but although the
two friends frequently exchanged ideas upon the subject, neither of them
caught the slightest clue to the mystery until Zorah, the high priest,
one day sought Earle and, with the assistance of Kedah, the tutor,
broached the subject of the approaching great Septennial Festival in
honour of Kuhlacan, the Winged Serpent, god of the Uluans, who was
supposed to have his abode at the bottom of the lake.
This was the first that either Earle or Dick had heard of the festival,
but bearing in mind the fact that the amulet which he wore bore the
"sign" of Kuhlacan, and that it was undoubtedly the possession of this
amulet which, from the first, had inspired the Uluans with that profound
reverence which had everywhere been shown him, the American at once
began to suspect that the Uluans were in some way connecting his
presence in the country with the approaching festival, and possibly
expecting him either to take a leading part in it, or it might be, to
issue some definite pronouncement in connection with it. Therefore, as
soon as Earle clearly realised the attitude of the people toward him,
and realised also that one or more important, perhaps vital, issues hung
in the balance awaiting his pronouncement, he assumed what he deemed to
be the correct oracular pose, in accordance with which he now bade Zorah
set forth his statement, or propound his questions, without
circumlocution.
Then the whole terrible truth came out, though it had to be wrung from
Zorah bit by bit, the high priest using his utmost endeavours to induce
Earle to endorse certain generalities put forward by the wily
ecclesiastic. But Zorah, clever and astute as he was, was no match for
the American, who simply listened to the priest's statements as he made
them, one by one, and then, without comment, bade the man pass on to the
next point. Earle's imperfect knowledge of the Uluan language, coupled
with Zorah's rapid, excited speech, made anything like a clear
understanding of the case exceedingly difficult. But Earle was in no
hurry; no sooner did he get an inkling of the actual object of the high
priest's visit than he determined to arrive at a perfectly clear and
definite understanding of the whole case; and in this he was ably
seconded by Kedah, who spared no pains to make every point advanced by
Zorah intelligible.
Condensed into a few words the issue raised was as follows:
On a certain date, the anniversary of which was now rapidly approaching,
an annual festival was held in honour of Kuhlacan, in the course of
which offerings were made to the god by every Uluan, who, embarking in a
gaily-decorated boat, proceeded to the middle of the lake and there cast
into the depths the most precious thing in his possession, usually some
costly article of jewellery made especially for the purpose. But every
seventh year the festival assumed a much more serious and important
character, inasmuch as that, in addition to the offerings above referred
to, the nation as a whole was accustomed to make a joint offering; such
offering consisting of the seven most beautiful maidens, between the
ages of twelve and twenty, in Ulua, who, on this great day, were dressed
in magnificent garments, loaded with jewels, until they could scarcely
stand for the weight of them, and then taken to the middle of the lake,
where, with much ceremony, and to the accompaniment of prayers and hymns
chanted by the priests, they plunged into the lake, one by one, and were
of course never again seen.
This ceremony, known as the Sacrifice of the Maidens, had been observed,
it appeared, from time immemorial, and was regarded by the priests--who,
being celibates, had no daughters to lose--as of the utmost importance
and sanctity, to such an extent, indeed, that even the slightest
approach to a murmur or protest against it was denounced as an
unpardonable sin. Yet, as may be easily understood, the approach of
every Septennial Festival was a time of infinite anxiety to all those
who happened to have daughters eligible for the sacrifice, the more so
that no family, not even royalty itself, was exempt, while the choice of
the maidens rested with the priests, from whose decision there was no
appeal. And the barbarity of the custom was accentuated in this
particular year, from the fact that Princess Myrra was both by age and
her remarkable beauty, to be certainly reckoned among the eligibles,
while an impression had arisen, rightly or wrongly, that the priesthood,
in order to manifest and assert their power, would assuredly so arrange
matters that she should be included among the fatal seven.
It is supposed that the king's opposition to the immemorial custom
really took definite shape on the day upon which his orphan
granddaughter entered upon her thirteenth year. Be this as it may, it
was not long afterwards that Juda, pious monarch as he was, ventured to
hint to Zorah his opinion that the time had arrived when the Sacrifice
of the Maidens might very well be abolished. But Zorah, a zealot of
zealots, would not hear of such a thing, possibly because, among other
reasons, the abolition would rob him of an appreciable amount of the
power which he now possessed, and which power, it was hinted, had been
more than once wielded to secure--for a substantial consideration--the
elimination of a name from the list of the chosen. Juda, of course,
might have approached the high priest with a similar proposal on behalf
of his granddaughter; but there were several reasons against it, one of
which was that the king was, according to his lights, a just monarch,
and would have scorned to secure the princess's exemption by any such
means, while another was that he shrewdly suspected Zorah would refuse
to forgo such a marked demonstration of his power and, in addition, give
himself away even at the cost of an enormous bribe.
Under these circumstances the king, while not actually revolting openly
from the dictum of the high priest, had instituted among the people a
practice of private prayer that the Septennial Sacrifice of the Maidens
might be dispensed with; and when during the actual year of the
Septennial Festival Earle had unexpectedly appeared, wearing an amulet
bearing the "sign" of Kuhlacan, and demanding admission to Ulua, it is
not to be wondered at if all who were in any way interested in the
burning question should regard his appearance as, in one form or
another, an answer to their petition. Whether that answer was to be in
the affirmative or the negative was what everybody, and especially
Zorah, were now particularly anxious to learn.
For Earle, with his as yet imperfect knowledge of the Uluan tongue to
get a clear comprehension of a somewhat intricate case, took some time,
and taxed Kedah's ingenuity to its utmost extent; but Kedah happened to
be a vitally interested party, and believing, in common with everybody
else, that Earle was in some mysterious fashion, either the incarnation
of Kuhlacan, or an ambassador and representative of the god, he
determined that, by hook or by crook, the white man should be made
clearly to understand every point of the case, and he succeeded.
On the other hand, as point after point was unfolded and made clear to
him, the quick-witted American began to realise that there was far more
in the case than, at a first glance, met the eye; it quickly resolved
itself, in fact, into a struggle between the priesthood and the laity;
and it needed but a single glance at the fanatical high priest's stern,
inflexible expression to assure oneself that he was not at all the sort
of person to yield without a struggle. To add to the difficulty, Earle
had no means of knowing what sort of a backing the priests would be
likely to have, should the struggle for supremacy become an open one,
which was by no means improbable. There was one point, however, upon
which Earle's mind was very quickly made up, since the decision seemed
to be left in his hands; let the consequences be what they might, the
barbarous custom of human sacrifice must be abolished. Other
developments must be left to take their course; but naturally, his
influence, whatever it might amount to, would be thrown into the scale
on the side of right and justice.
Therefore when at length Zorah, the high priest, had fully stated his
case, and was expectantly awaiting an answer, Earle turned to him and
said:
"Know, O Zorah, high priest of the god whom the people of Ulua call
Kuhlacan, that to settle this important question of human sacrifice is
one of the reasons for my presence in this country; and it was my
purpose to have made the Divine Will known as soon as I had sufficiently
mastered the intricacies of your tongue to render myself intelligible;
but ye have forestalled me. The matter is urgent, I know, seeing that
the Septennial Festival is at hand; yet, in virtue of the `sign' which I
bear"--here he lightly touched the amulet--"it would have been better
had ye abided in patience until it was convenient for me to speak. Let
that pass, however; your impatience was the outcome of your zeal, and it
is therefore forgiven.
"Now in the olden time the Deity whom all worship ordained that a
portion of His worship should consist in the offering of sacrifices
involving the shedding of blood; and, for a time, such sacrifices,
accompanied of course with prayer and praise, and the living of an
upright life sufficed.
"But the sacrifices of which I have just spoken were merely the figure,
reminder of, and substitute for, a still greater sacrifice which in the
fulness of time was made, but news of which I am the first to bring ye;
and that sacrifice has rendered all others involving the shedding of
blood and the destruction of life unnecessary; hence it is the will of
Him whom all worship, that the Sacrifice of the Maidens shall cease for
ever. I have spoken."
Evidently this was not at all the kind of pronouncement which Zorah had
anticipated; he looked not only greatly surprised, but also profoundly
disappointed; and there was also something in the expression of his
strongly marked features which seemed to indicate that he was by no
means prepared to accept Earle's dictum unless supported by proof of
some sort. For a minute or more he stood silent and thoughtful, turning
over the problem which presented itself to him. Then, looking up, he
propounded his question.
"Lord," he said, "thou sayest that sacrifice is no longer necessary.
How then shall we henceforth worship, seeing that the very essence of
our worship is sacrifice?"
"Nay," answered Earle; "ye mistake me, Zorah. I said not that sacrifice
is no longer necessary; but that sacrifices involving the taking of life
are no longer required. Ye are accustomed to slay and burn animals upon
your altars; but that is an easy thing for ye to do, involving no real
sacrifice indeed, since it is only the animals who suffer. And ye make
annual sacrifice by casting into the lake the most precious thing ye
possess. But even that is not sufficient; ye must make sacrifices that
are still more difficult, and cost ye more than that. Ye must
steadfastly resist every temptation to do evil, to injure an enemy, to
rob, defraud, to utter untruths, to do anything which ye know to be
wrong. And ye must do this, not only at stated times set apart for
worship, but ye must do it always, whenever the impulse to do evil
comes. So shall ye offer the most acceptable sacrifice which it is
possible for man to render to his God."
Again Zorah bent his mind to the full comprehension of all that Earle's
words meant.
"Then," said he at length, "the festivals will be as heretofore,
excepting that the Sacrifice of the Maidens is forbidden?"
"Even so," agreed Earle, "but with a further difference. Ye are
accustomed every year to cast some very precious thing into the lake.
That sacrifice also is unnecessary, since Kuhlacan has no need of jewels
or ornaments of any kind. Yet, sacrifice, being an act of worship and
an expression of gratitude for mercies and benefits received, is good,
and therefore shall be continued, but in a different form. Here in
Ulua, as elsewhere, ye have poor and sick; and henceforth your sacrifice
shall take the form of ministering to them and providing them with those
things necessary to their comfort and welfare which, by reason of their
poverty, they are unable to provide for themselves. Therefore,
henceforward it shall be that every person desiring to offer sacrifice
shall, instead of casting some precious thing into the waters of the
lake, take its value in money to the temple, and present it to the
priests, who in their turn shall expend it in the manner which I have
indicated."
Zorah nodded. "The plan seems good," he said; "yet I foresee many
difficulties in the way. We shall need continual guidance from thee,
lord, if the innovation is to be successfully accomplished."
"True," assented Earle. "And ye shall have all the guidance that ye
need. I will speak to thee again of this. Now go in peace."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
DICK CAVENDISH LOSES HIS TEMPER.
Earle thought he had good reason to congratulate himself upon the
success with which he had grappled the problem of human sacrifice in
connection with the septennial festival in honour of Kuhlacan; for, at
the first, his pronouncement seemed to meet with universal approval.
Yet but a few days elapsed before it was apparent that even so
humanitarian an edict as Earle's, one which, it might have been
supposed, would appeal more or less directly to everybody, was not
without its objectors. True, those objectors were only to be found
among those who had not, and were not in the least likely to have,
daughters who might be reckoned as "eligible"; yet it was really
surprising to find how many of these there were. Precisely _why_ they
objected it was very difficult to ascertain; but it was thought that the
reason was that the "sacrifice" afforded an exciting spectacle to
persons of a cruel, morbid and vicious disposition. Also, it soon began
to be hinted that although Zorah, the high priest, had seemed to
acquiesce in the innovation, the priesthood were in reality opposed to
and were secretly stirring up the people to rebel against it.
Meanwhile, however, Earle had earned the undying gratitude of the king,
the princess, and several of the most powerful and influential of the
nobles, who treated him and Dick with greater respect and reverence than
ever. The preparations for the festival proceeded apace; and to
compensate the masses for the loss of the most spectacular feature of
the event, Earle and Dick inaugurated a series of games and sports, with
valuable prizes for those successful in them, sufficient in number to
occupy the entire day; so that when that day arrived, it not only passed
without any marked demonstration of dissatisfaction, but was pronounced
to be a distinct improvement upon the old order of things.
True, it was not possible for those who keenly watched the demeanour of
the crowd to avoid noticing that the satisfaction was by no means
general; and another disconcerting fact in connection with the festival
was that, when it was over and Zorah was requested to report to Earle
the amount presented in the temple on that day, in lieu of the usual
offerings cast into the lake, the sum named by the high priest was
disappointingly meagre, amounting to less than a tenth of what had been
anticipated. Earle mentioned privately to Dick his suspicion that there
had been a tremendous amount of leakage somewhere, and expressed his
determination to look into the matter at the earliest possible
opportunity; but before he could do so his attention was distracted from
it by other and more important happenings.