WE ARGUE WITH THE HIGH PRIESTESS
Well, it was all over, and we had no chance to demur or make any
protest. The members of the Tribune gathered their robes about them and
walked away, and then the tiers of seats began to empty, without haste
and in an orderly, circumspect manner.
Curious looks were cast at us, but I could read neither pity nor
abhorrence in any countenance. We were wholly outside the lives of this
strange race, and they accepted our fate as a matter of course.
The officer who had brought us here now turned and said:
“You have been tried and judged, strangers. You have heard the verdict
of the just Tribunal. Follow me.”
Of course we tagged along after him; there was nothing else to be done.
We now headed straight for the city, and that especial part of it
situated at the south end of the valley. The people, returning to their
dwellings, avoided interfering with us. While within earshot they did
not discuss us or our unhappy destiny. Through centuries they have been
taught consideration for others, nor did they forget the lesson even in
their conduct toward strangers and condemned criminals.
Our glimpses of the residences we passed filled us with wonder and
admiration. Highly polished marble, ornate and artistic carvings,
exquisite tropical shrubbery, closely mowed lawns, fountains, cornices
and ornaments of wrought gold were everywhere visible. The approaches to
some of the finer dwellings were paved with layers of golden sheets,
riveted together and in some instances bordered with fine rubies and
other gems. Gold seemed the most abundant metal the Tcha possessed, and
they had a secret way of hardening it that rendered it as durable as
steel, without impairing its beauty.
Approaching nearer and nearer to the south wall of the mountain
enclosing the valley, we at last reached the most impressive and
extensive building of all—the Temple of the Sun. Ample grounds
surrounded the huge, majestic pile, enclosed by marble walls ten feet in
height, which were supplemented by a six-foot ornamental railing of
elaborately worked gold. The entrance gates were likewise of gold, and
bore in the center of each a highly polished representation of the sun
shedding its rays in every direction.
News of our coming had evidently preceded us, for the great gates at
once swung inward to receive us and a group of tall priests, most of
them advanced in years, stood ready to admit the devoted band of
prisoners to the sacred precincts. The official did not pass the gates.
He reverently removed his casque and said:
“Holy fathers, to your keeping I confide the condemned. They now belong
to our mother, the divine and adorable High Priestess of our god, the
Sun.” Then, turning to us he continued in an earnest tone: “Destiny
directs all human life. You are brave men, strangers, and are prepared
to well fulfill the decree of Destiny. Being on the threshold of the
great Hereafter, I give you greetings and good wishes. May your journey
be peaceful and swift.”
Without awaiting our thanks for this doleful farewell he turned and
departed, while with small ado we were marched through the gates and
allowed to hear them swing shut behind us, the ring of their golden bars
sounding like a knell in my ears. According to the best calculations of
the Tcha we were never to pass this barrier again, either alive or dead.
Directly facing the gates was the great temple, entered by a broad
flight of steps and composed of four walls, roofless and open to the
rays of the Sun. Entirely separated from this main building were two
others of smaller dimensions but much more elaborate. That at the right
had a separate enclosure and was connected with the temple by a
peristyle; the other, toward which we were directed, stood alone.
This, we found, was the palace of the High Priest and the residence of
the numerous priests of the sun. The leaders of the reception committee
were diverse. One was a wild-eyed, ascetic looking fellow who glared at
us but kept silent; the other proved a kindly-faced man who treated us
with marked respect.
After giving us a cool and refreshing beverage to drink—it reminded me
of lemonade—we were taken to the presence of the High Priest, a
doddering, withered old individual who seemed to have lived far beyond
his allotted time and was drowsing contentedly when we disturbed him. He
woke up to stare at us a moment, then waved us away, saying to our
escort:
“They belong to the great god, the Sun. Cherish them; treat them
tenderly, as befits those to be prepared for the sacrifice.”
At the moment we were inclined to resent this. None of us, I am sure,
had any desire to become a sacrificial offering. But as we left the High
Priest, who had fallen asleep again even before he had finished
speaking, Chaka congratulated us on our good fortune.
“Had we been deemed unworthy of their great god,” he explained in
English, “they would have killed us at sundown to-night, murdering us in
cold blood and tossing our carcasses to the beasts. Sacrificial
offerings are reserved for special occasions and are often prepared for
weeks in advance, being cherished and fattened that they may become the
more acceptable to the god. Therefore this order means we shall gain
time to plan an escape. That may not be impossible, my friends, after
all; and, in any event, time has its value.”
Afterward the atkayma told us that had not the High Priest been in his
dotage he assuredly would not have accepted our blacks for sacrifice.
The Mexican might pass, perhaps, as his skin was not unlike the color of
that of the Itzaex; but the Sun-god might not like black sacrifices. The
event, however, proved that Chaka was wrong in this conclusion.
We were now treated with great respect by the priests, even the
wild-eyed one being willing to “cherish” the victims. Having been
formally dedicated to their god our persons were sacred and our comfort
and welfare the objects of much solicitude. If one of us expressed a
desire it was at once granted, and we were surrounded by every luxury
the luxurious palace afforded. In effect we became autocrats, commanding
the priests at will. One thing only was denied us—permission to leave
the temple enclosure.
For four dreary days we lived this sybaritic life; they were dreary
because we had little to do but to eat and sleep and take life easy. Of
course we talked over our delicate position and sought to evolve some
plan of escape, but without the precious outfit that had been taken from
us we were practically helpless.
All the Vale of Tcha was under the supreme rule of the High Priestess of
the Sun, an hereditary title that had been handed down from mother to
daughter for thousands of years—how many thousands we as yet were unable
to learn. The High Priestess was attended by fifty Virgins between the
ages of fifteen and thirty. Having served to the latter age they were
released, sent back to their homes and permitted to marry. The daughters
of these original Virgins of the Sun were entitled to succeed their
mothers, in time; if there were not enough of them choice was made of
young girls from the noblest families of the nation.
Next in rank came the High Priest, who was supported by fifty priests.
These last, however, held their positions for life, and their ranks were
filled from time to time by the most intelligent and deserving of the
young men of Tcha. But so arduous were the duties of the priesthood that
there was no time to fuss over civil affairs and the administration of
the laws; so a Tribunal was selected by the High Priestess, the members
of which served during their natural lives, directing all the minor
affairs of the nation.
The Tcha believed but in one god, the Sun, from whence they considered
they derived all the good things of life. They were communists to an
extent, although divided into castes. The manufacturers’ guild was the
most important of all, after the priesthood and the nobility, the latter
being a luxurious class consisting of relatives of the priestesses and
their subsequent children, but who constituted the scientific and
literary class as well. The manufacturers’ guild included goldsmiths,
weavers, millers and bakers, and all those who produced goods or wares
from raw material. Next came the agriculturists, then the miners, and
finally the builders.
Every inhabitant of the Vale of Tcha belonged to one or another of them
castes and was supposed to keep busy, a drone being despised by all.
Everything produced went into the public warehouses and from there was
distributed to each family according to its requirements.
On the afternoon of the fourth day of our imprisonment a message came to
us that the High Priestess desired to see the “sacrificial devotees.”
The priests at once bustled about and brought us fresh togas and our
white duck suits, which we wore under the robes. We were washed and
brushed like schoolboys and given endless advice as to our conduct in
the presence of “the Divine and Supreme Ama”.
“Ama” meant in the Maya tongue “mother”. If the High Priestess had any
other name we never heard it.
When we had been properly fixed up and inspected by the wild-eyed one,
who had authority under the senile High Priest, we were ushered past the
great temple to the gates of the enclosure beyond. Here the priests
turned us over to the care of six beautiful damsels whose tunics bore
the device of the flaming sun. They were in no way embarrassed by the
care of nine men of a strange race. Indeed, they regarded us
impersonally as sacrifices intended in the near future to propitiate
their god.
Demurely they led us along flower-bordered walks; into the main entrance
of the magnificent palace of the Priestesses, through a lofty hall and
out by a rear entrance, down a long pergola shaded by climbing roses,
past a garden resplendent with rare and gorgeous blooms, and finally
into a roomy pavilion that stood almost at the edge of the cliff that
towered above the city.
The pillars, roof and floor of the pavilion were of pure white marble.
In the center was a fountain that sent its cooling sprays far into the
air. Beyond the fountain we found the floor strewn with exquisite rugs
and downy cushions while in the rear of this spacious retreat was a
golden divan upon which reclined the High Priestess, Supreme Ruler of
the Vale of Tcha.
How shall I describe Ama to you? Shall I say she was the embodiment of
grace and beauty, that her figure was tall and supple, her hair a golden
bronze, her eyes turquoise and her lips budded like a rose? All that
seems stale and flat in depicting Ama.
To our amazement this redoubtable High Priestess, in whose hands reposed
all power, was a mere child, scarcely more than seventeen years of age.
No daintier, fairer, sweeter girl could be imagined. Reared from the
cradle to occupy this exalted position, she was a real queen, regal
alike in bearing, in natural attributes, in education and in person.
Never had she known a wish unfulfilled, never a command thwarted. She
had succeeded her mother at twelve years of age, and her omnipotence
among the Tcha was accepted by the girl without a thought that she owed
all to the accident of birth.
As we stood before her the mighty priestess sat up and examined us with
undisguised interest. First she deliberately stared at Paul, until his
eyes fell and a deep blush suffused his face. Then Chaka was observed,
with evidences of lively approval. Indeed, the youthful atkayma looked
very handsome in his haughty, dignified pose, and his brown eyes met
those of Ama quite frankly. When she turned to me I bowed and smiled.
She was only a girl; why should I fear her? Yet for some reason we had
all forgotten entirely our instructions to prostrate ourselves most
humbly before the Supreme Ruler. We felt more like treating her as we
would an American girl.
One by one she silently scrutinized us all. Then, lying back on her
cushions, she waved her hands and said:
“Be seated, thou consecrated ones, thou who art sacred to our Lord the
Sun. Let us converse together,” she added, graciously.
We squatted on the rugs, arranging ourselves as comfortably as possible,
and the attendant Virgins followed suit. When we were seated Ama said:
“Are you contented? Have you any request to make?”
“One, your Highness,” ventured Paul, earnestly.
“Speak, then.”
“Your god,” said he, “is not the God of our fathers. We do not wish to
be sacrificed to a strange god. Coming as friends and without evil
intent to your country, we have been deprived of our liberty and
consecrated to a god we do not worship. The action of the Tcha has been
unjust and unkind. We desire to be set free and allowed to return to our
own people.”
Ama seemed disturbed by this statement. She sat up again, resting an
elbow upon her knee and her chin upon the palm of her hand, listening
carefully.
“Alas,” she said in reply, “your protest comes all too late. The decree
has passed the Tribunal. The High Priest has accepted you as worthy
sacrifices. Already are you consecrated to the Divine Sun, whose majesty
would be outraged if robbed of his offerings.”
“Haven’t we anything to say about our own fate?” I asked indignantly.
“Oh, no, indeed!” she responded, smiling bewitchingly. “When one breaks
the laws of a country he loses his individual right to direct his fate.
Is it not so in the land from whence you came?”
“How are outsiders to know your laws, when you seclude yourselves from
all the rest of mankind?” inquired Joe.
“If we seclude ourselves, it is evidence we do not desire intrusion,”
she answered.
We began to admit to ourselves it would not be easy to influence this
fair young girl. She had been taught to conserve the traditions of her
people; her ethics of law were fairly sound.
For a time she appeared to be absorbed in thought. Then she said
abruptly:
“Tell me of your own country. You differ from and are superior to others
who, at times, have come here to disturb us. Most of them, I am told,
for it was all before my time, were found to be unworthy to be dedicated
to the sacrifice. But you, it seems, have learned to fly as the birds
fly, and you bear strange and death-dealing weapons. You clothe
yourselves with many hitherto unknown devices, and in your chests are
many things the use of which we are ignorant.”
This speech gave Allerton an idea.
“The countries of the outside world,” he answered, “are of vast extent
and throng with millions of people. These teach to one another the
knowledge they acquire and the scientific discoveries they make.
Therefore they progress much more rapidly than any secluded people, such
as the Tcha, can hope to do. Forgive me for saying it, your Highness,
but your people are ignorant of many things. They are far behind other
nations in arts, sciences and inventions, and very insignificant when
compared with the people from whom we came.”
“In other words,” I explained, “you are way behind the procession,
Ama—chasing the times, so to speak.”
She listened, and regarded us thoughtfully.
“The Tcha is the greatest nation in all the world!” she declared, with
queenly pride.
“It is far from that, your Highness,” replied Allerton. “If you ventured
outside this puny circle of rocks your nation would soon be swallowed up
by the great world and practically annihilated. Because we are nine
helpless travelers you seize and destroy us. In the outside world your
entire population would appear meaner and more helpless than we nine are
among you here.”
She suddenly sprang up with flashing eyes and stamped her foot angrily
upon the rug, like a pettish school-girl.
“How dare you come here and lie to me?” she cried with spirit. “How dare
you malign my people, the mighty Tcha, to their Supreme Ruler, the
Priestess of the Sun? Begone, outcasts that you are! begone and leave me
to forget the shame you have thrust upon me!”
We went away, of course. There wasn’t time to argue the proposition, and
I feared Paul had made a sad mistake. Archie was sorry, too, for I had
noticed he was holding the hand of a pretty priestess who sat next him.
But there was a satisfied look on Allerton’s face, and as the Virgins
thrust us out of their enclosure into the arms of the priests awaiting
us he said in English:
“That shot told, all right, and soon she will want to know more about
the outside world. Don’t be despondent, boys; I’ve an idea we may win
out yet.”