WE SIGHT THE QUARRY
As compared with the palaces of civilized nations I cannot say much in
favor of Chaka’s royal dwelling. When I consider that it existed in the
heart of an isolated, practically unknown wilderness, I admit it was
something to win approval. It must have been centuries old, for the mark
of ages was upon it everywhere, as it was upon most of the buildings of
Itza. Built of square blocks of a coarse and unpolished but durable
marble, set with cement, there had been little attempt at architectural
display on the part of the builders. The palace covered nearly an acre,
having several wings which had been added at different periods. The
interior was cool but dirty; the walls and floors had never been
scrubbed, I imagine. The ceilings of the main floor were so low that I
could reach up and touch them; those on the second floor, to which we
ascended by means of a narrow, steep stair without a rail, were more
lofty.
The place was full of servants, officials and hangers-on; but Chaka
managed to recognize the chief steward, or whatever he was called, and
after a brief interview with that factotum had us ushered into a big
bare room on the second floor, in one of the wings.
We took our precious chests with us, of course, and prepared to camp.
That’s the right word to use, for the only furniture in the room was a
row of stone benches around the wall. Aside from the doorway were two
outside openings intended for windows, over which a network of vines
grew, keeping out the sun but admitting light and air and permitting us
to get a limited view of the street. Over the doorway hung a sort of
portiere of wool and feather-work, gorgeously colored. The chamber was a
primitive abode, indeed, yet we approved it because our position could
be defended and we knew not what to expect from the bigoted,
unresponsive Itzaex.
Relying on Chaka’s ability to protect time, at least, we now divested
ourselves of our bulky equipment. That was a distinct relief, for it was
the first time since leaving the ship that we had lain it aside. We
replaced it with thin white duck trousers and jackets which we had
brought along for such an occasion in one of the chests. Ned Britton
proposed strolling out and seeing the town, but Allerton thought it
wiser to remain where we were until we had word from Chaka.
About noon a troop of Indian girls entered, bearing food in various pots
and earthen dishes which they set upon the floor before us. I have
remarked upon the beauty of the male Itzaex, but I must confess their
women are not up to the standard. Nearly all are short and dumpish in
form, with dull eyes and apathetic countenances. I never saw a pretty
Itzaex girl while I was there.
The food was plentiful and of good quality, but poorly seasoned and
carelessly cooked. The meats were mutton or wild game, supplemented by
various vegetables such as rice, barley and a root resembling turnip.
The bread was heavy and tough; but we managed to eat it, nevertheless,
and I am sure we ought to have been satisfied for the feast was as good
as the natives were able to provide.
After dinner we waited in vain for Chaka to come to us. As the hours
rolled by Allerton began to be uneasy and disturbed. Not until the sun
had sunk low upon the horizon and we had come to heartily detest the
blank walls of our room did our friend, the atkayma, finally appear. He
seemed grave and thoughtful as he entered, and after a word of greeting
he squatted on the floor before us.
“They have kept me busy,” he said in English. “I could not come before.
There have been councils and discussions all day. Just now I have come
from the great temple, where the priests have been telling me my duty.”
“Poor Brother!” said Paul. “It is not easy to be a king.”
Chaka shrugged his shoulders.
“Not that, Brother Paul,” said he. “But it is not easy to run against
the traditions of an ancient people, to defy a powerful priesthood and
stand alone against a nation.”
“Have you done that, Chaka?”
“I had to do it. Otherwise you would all now be dead.”
“Do they object to us so strongly?” I asked.
“White men,” said the atkayma, “centuries ago deceived my people, who
destroyed them. Never since have they permitted a white man to penetrate
into their country. Their one great hatred—greater than that for the
Mopanes—is this hatred of the whites. When I, as the head of the nation,
brought you here, the people submitted reluctantly; but now they demand
your death—that you be sacrificed upon the funeral pyre of my murdered
father. It is the custom to sacrifice to the gods on such an occasion.”
“I suppose your precious uncle is at the bottom of this,” remarked
Archie.
“He has induced the priests to demand you as sacrifices. I have just
come from the great temple, which is on an island in the lake. The
priests will not listen to my protests. They are determined to destroy
the hated white men and the blacks who are with them. According to our
law no strangers may exist in our land or leave it alive.”
“We’ll show them a trick or two,” remarked Ned Britton, smiling.
Chaka hesitated; then he added:
“The priests and the council have hinted that unless you are all
delivered up to them at daybreak to-morrow morning, when my father’s
body is to be cremated with much ceremony, they will assassinate me,
their atkayma, and place my uncle at the head of the nation.”
We looked at one another a little bewildered at this. Chaka had
misjudged his power over these stubborn people, and a serious
complication had unexpectedly arisen.
“In that case,” said Allerton slowly, “something must be done to-night.”
Chaka nodded, but made no other reply. He sat on the stone floor,
swaddled in his robe of royalty and hugging his knees in a very unroyal
attitude. Paul eyed him thoughtfully, likewise refraining from speech.
We others knew it was an occasion when we were not called upon to
interfere with the promoters of the expedition.
Gradually the sun sank. After a brief twilight darkness flooded the
room. We were growing impatient when Chaka slowly arose and said:
“Come, my Brother Paul. Also you, Cap’n Sam; and Cap’n Joe, as well. We
must talk. It will be a small council. My other friends will remain here
and wait for us.”
“I don’t like dividing our party,” said I, doubtfully.
“There will be no division.”
“Where are you going, then?” asked Ned.
“To the roof above. Soon we will return. Wait.”
Allerton, Joe and I followed the atkayma to the door. Just outside
another narrow stair led to a small opening through which I saw a starry
sky. We ascended these stairs and stood upon a flat roof surrounded by a
low parapet.
The sky was a clear blue, set with myriads of diamond stars. Already a
full moon was rising above the city, shedding its soft light so broadly
that we could clearly distinguish the surrounding landscape. The air was
dry, hot and perfectly still.
“Yonder,” said Chaka in English, as he faced the south, “stands the
great mountain of Aota. Around it are the four peaks of Gam. That
country is barren and covered with rocks. There are secret caves in
which dwell fierce animals with evil spirits, and deep wells that draw
one to his death. So my people have always been told, and they believe
the tale. No Itzaex ever go to those mountains; they are considered
sacred to the spirits of evil.”
“And where lies the hidden city?” asked Paul, eagerly.
“In the very center of Aota, whose steep sides it is impossible for man
to climb.”
“It can’t be a very big place,” I remarked.
“That mountain is bigger than it seems from here,” declared Joe.
“Yes,” said Chaka; “it is a big mountain, and in its center, so my
father told me, is a big valley where all things beautiful grow and
flourish. The people are not many as compared with the Itzaex. Perhaps
they number a thousand—perhaps two thousand—I do not know. But they are
a powerful race, descended from those who once came from Atlantis, and
in their valley they find all that they need to support life.”
We stood looking thoughtfully at the barren, towering peak. No wonder
elaborate preparations had been made to invade such a stronghold.
“I wish we had their gold and rubies without the trouble of going
there,” I said.
“Well,” said Allerton, awakening to a more alert mood, “we haven’t; and
the journey must be made. What do you propose, Chaka? Can we steal away
from the city to-night and start toward Aota?”
The atkayma shook his head.
“Look!” said he, pointing below. “The walls are guarded by my warriors.
I myself might easily pass through, but not the white people. Already
the word has gone abroad that the priests demand your lives. The funeral
pyre of the dead atkayma requires victims. My uncle has aroused public
hatred against you and the Itzaex nation thirsts for your blood.”
“That’s pleasant,” commented Joe.
“But what’s the program, then?” I inquired. “We don’t agree to be
murdered, of course, however thirsty your people may be. That isn’t what
we came here for.”
“No,” said Chaka. “We have really little to fear. If my Brother Paul and
my other friends approve, I will show them how we may escape.”
“Speak, my brother,” returned Paul.
“It is not wise to go to-night,” began Chaka, “for I do not know the way
to the mountain very well. All I know is that by some means we must get
to the top of Aota. There is no wind. If we ascend into the air now we
will remain suspended over the city, except for the small progress we
could make with our wings, which have never been tested. In this country
a breeze always springs up in the morning. It blows from the north and
the north-west. That would help to carry us away toward the mountain, or
at least far away from the city.”
“But aren’t we to be burned on the funeral pyre at daybreak?” demanded
Joe.
“At daybreak I am commanded to deliver you to the priests at the great
temple,” said Chaka. “There will be many ceremonies. You will be taken
to the top of the temple, which is a pyramid, and there, in the sight of
the people below, you are to be slain. Afterward your bodies will be
laid upon the funeral pyre. My plan is to allow all this to happen but
the killing. We will inflate our gas-jackets in readiness and at the
right time, while the breeze is blowing, mount into the air and escape.”
“Well, I’m game,” said I, drawing a long breath, for I saw exciting
times ahead.
“I’m with you, Chaka,” added Joe in his quiet voice.
Allerton walked to the parapet and stood there several minutes, thinking
deeply. Then he returned and placed his hand on Chaka’s shoulder.
“It is a good plan, my brother,” he said. “We will follow it to the
end.”
We went below and told the others. Nux and Bryonia grinned and nodded as
if they had been invited to attend a circus; Ned asked a few questions
and said he was satisfied; Pedro shook his head and vowed it seemed
“ver’ much danger” but he would go with the crowd. Archie was asleep and
growled when we woke him up. “Settle it to suit yourselves,” he said,
yawning. “I’m agreeable to anything but keeping awake all night.”
I’m ashamed to say I slept very soundly myself, worn out by our long
journey and its excitements. I think every one slept, for that matter,
unless it was the Mexican. When the atkayma went away he sent us some
soft mats which we spread upon the benches and reclined upon.
It was still dark when Chaka again aroused us. He was accompanied by two
tall Itzaex in red robes, who bore lighted torches. A group of Indian
maids came behind them with a simple breakfast of fruits and milk.
We first ate and then proceeded to don our equipment. There was a word
of protest from one of the priests, but Chaka silenced him and to the
amazement of the torch-bearers calmly began to put on his own gas-jacket
and electrite outfit. He refrained from assuming the head-gear and threw
his ample robe over the other fittings, thus effectually hiding them. I
believe these priests, shrewd as they seemed, were wholly unable to
guess what our strange apparel was for. After all, it matter little to
them, so long as we came quietly to our fate.
When finally we were fully equipped and the surplus material had been
packed into a chest, the atkayma produced a small but very strong cord
made from hemp, with which he proceeded to loop us all together in a
string, himself being attached to one end and Paul to the other. Archie
began to protest at this, but Allerton told him it was intended as an
additional safeguard.
Then we started on, the priests going first and Chaka following, drawing
the rest of the string after him. The ropes had been left long enough
for us to trundle the chests along easily, and so far as I was concerned
the only uncomfortable thing was my wings, which kept getting in my way.
These had been left to dangle at our sides until such time as we chose
to thrust our arms through the loops, in order to use them for flying.
In their folded state they did not resemble wings at all, and although
the Itzaex prided themselves on never showing a trace of curiosity I am
quite sure we had them guessing in more ways than one.