WE FIND THE TCHA GRATEFUL
Allerton said that he seemed to live an hour during the time the rock
was falling. He saw plainly that he could not save both himself and Ama,
so he threw the girl to Chaka and at the same time tripped and fell to
the ground just beside the throne. That trip alone saved him, as the
fragment that broke from the main portion struck in such a way that a
small space was left, in which his body lay. He was considerably bruised
and cut, but with the exception of two broken ribs and a sprained arm
escaped any other important injury. We had him sitting up in an hour,
and under Bry’s skillful manipulation, assisted by a Tcha priest who was
fairly proficient in surgery, his broken ribs quickly mended. But the
shock to his nervous system had been severe and Paul became an
interesting invalid for several days after the accident.
Being an ancient people, the Tcha have a code of laws that seems to
cover every possible happening; but some of them, perhaps evolved
centuries ago, are quite extraordinary. One law declares that if any
person performs an exceptional service for the High Priestess, such as
“preserving her life or preventing her from suffering physical injury,”
he shall become immune from any punishment he may have incurred by any
previous act, and all edicts against him shall be annulled.
The Tribunal was aware of this law and promptly acted upon it; but the
august body, during its conference, encountered a puzzling and
unexampled difficulty. Who had saved the life of the High Priestess?
Either it was Paul, who had removed Ama from beneath the falling stone,
or Chaka, who had caught her and carried her to a safe distance, or
myself, whose cry had called attention to her danger.
To my mind Paul alone had accomplished the salvation of the Supreme
Ruler; but the aged Tribunal could not see it exactly in that light.
They argued the case among themselves until they were in despair of
being able to settle it conclusively. One voted for me, one for Chaka
and one for Paul, and being very conscientious and eminently just none
would alter his decision. So the matter was laid before the High Priest,
as provided for by law when the Tribunal could not agree. As usual the
old sleepyhead revoked; he said he didn’t know and didn’t care who had
saved Ama; it was sufficient for him that she had been saved; let the
High Priestess herself solve the knotty problem. And then he fell asleep
again.
Therefore the case came to Ama herself for solution, and she appeared as
perplexed as the others. Finally she took it under advisement and said
she would come to a decision some day in the near future.
I am sure the incident considerably improved our standing in the
community. It must have humiliated the Tcha, who are really brave and
energetic, that they all sat in paralyzed terror while the condemned
strangers saved their High Priestess from sudden death. A careful
investigation was now made of the cliff to see if any more stones were
loose, on the principle of locking the barn door after the horse is
stolen; but no one was ever accused of negligence for not having
inspected the cliff before. Occasionally a rock had been known to drop
into the valley, but it was a rare occurrence and seldom did much harm.
The Tcha considered this accident a mere fatality, and therefore
unavoidable.
The sensations of the lovely and sedate Ama when seized and hurled about
like a ball were not subject to popular discussion. For a day or two
following we heard indirectly that the girl was nervous and unstrung, as
well she might be; but on the third day she sent for Paul, Chaka and me,
and thanked us all very prettily and impartially.
The public argument over the merits and discoveries of our respective
civilizations was now abandoned for good. But Ama had us frequently
brought to her pavilion, where she questioned us closely and seemed
greatly interested in our personal history and home life. All subjects
interested her: politics, geography and inventions most of all. On one
occasion Paul asked for our chests.
“If we had them here,” said he, “I could furnish you and your attendants
with much amusement, and prove to you many things that are difficult to
explain in words.”
She considered this request, and when we were next called to an
interview with her Highness we found the four chests standing in a row
before her couch. They had all been broken open and the contents
rummaged, but not a single article had been removed or injured in any
way—except that the extra gas-jacket and inflatable coverings for the
chests had been abstracted. Our electrites, the use of which they
shrewdly suspected, and all of our gas-jackets and firearms were
withheld from us.
Paul first unrolled our maps and showed Ama the great world, with its
lakes, seas and oceans and chains of lofty mountains. He showed her on a
smaller map the location of Yucatan, and how insignificant the peninsula
was when compared with the great continent of which it formed a part.
Then with a pencil he made a tiny dot to show the location of Mount Aota
and its comparative size.
Ama observed all this with pensive earnestness. She made no remarks nor
admissions, but was evidently impressed. The poor girl had been trained
to consider herself the head of a mighty nation which was so important
that it haughtily excluded the rest of creation from vulgar contact with
it. She had considered the Tcha of superior intellect, far in advance of
any other race, and the chosen people of the one great and true god—the
Sun.
In this belief she and her preceptors were to an extent justified. Their
tiny kingdom lay in the heart of the Itzaex territory, and the savage
nations surrounding them were in every respect inferior to the Tcha.
They also served as a shield against the nations beyond, and this fact
deceived the Tcha, who naturally judged all foreign people by those
about them.
Their literature was rich in legendary lore, but of their contemporaries
they were wholly ignorant. They kept a record of their own history,
using great books made of a fibre parchment, the leaves being sometimes
three feet square and bound at the edges. They used both hieroglyphics
and picture writing, and what I saw was quite artistically executed. One
great building was used as a library for these books and contained
records dating from the time of their emigration from Atlantis, whence
they had been driven by political wars. The Tcha were merely a branch of
the horde that settled in Yucatan. Their leader was a powerful and able
Priestess who, discovering the fertile vale within the mountain of
Aota—doubtless in bygone ages the mouth of a volcano—decided to settle
therein with her especial followers. In some way the Tcha escaped the
destruction that overwhelmed the other cities of Yucatan, and their
prosperity continued undiminished through all the centuries. They knew
when Atlantis was submerged, and by means of a system of spies kept
touch with the doings of the Maya tribes that afterward settled in the
peninsula. The coming of the Spaniards was a danger recorded in their
books, but they had persuaded the Itzaex to stand firm and oppose the
invaders, and through their assistance that tribe was never conquered or
their territory overrun.
It surprised me that a people so shrewd in other ways had never sent
spies or emissaries to the modern nations throughout the world; but the
fact was that they had not the faintest conception that our great
civilization existed. They alone, in their ignorant belief, were
progressive and cultured.
Our advent was destined to undeceive them in this respect.
Having shown Ama how small was her valley Allerton proceeded to prove
our superior inventive genius. He exhibited to the wondering eyes of Ama
and her pretty priestesses some of the novelties we had brought with us
for this very purpose, and for trading. There was a small phonograph for
one thing, with an assortment of vocal and instrumental records, and
when these were played they created a veritable sensation. Paul promptly
presented the outfit to the High Priestess, and it afforded her great
pleasure. The Tcha were a music-loving people, but their musical
instruments were quite primitive.
Next we stretched a copper wire from the palace of the priests to Ama’s
pavilion, and set up a telephone at each end. This aroused no end of
excitement and all the priests and priestesses soon learned how to use
it. Ama called us up every morning, and she used the wire to convey her
orders to the priests, instead of communicating with them by messenger,
as before.
A pocket electric flash-light excited considerable admiration, as did
some clocks and watches. The Tcha still used sundials to mark the time.
Some tiny music-boxes, playing one tune, were presented by us to various
officials and the gifts won us much favor.
We exhibited all these things with careful deliberation, making them
serve as vehicles for many interviews with the lovely priestess. In
return she graciously showed us some of the accomplishments of the Tcha.
We were taken to a vast cave where a large volume of water gushed from
the rocks with irresistible force. Some inventive Tcha had long ago
constructed an electric motor operated by this water power, and it
supplied electric lights to all the valley. They did not turn off their
lamps, but allowed them to burn until the filament burned out, masking
them with shields when the lumination was not required. Archie showed
them how to make a cut-off, and also improved the shape of their lamps.
So receptive and skillful were the native glass-blowers and artisans
generally that they soon reconstructed their entire plant on modern
principles.
They made a very superior storage battery, by means of which the
chariots of the High Priestess and her nobility were propelled, in much
the same fashion as our automobiles. They were clumsy and slow, it is
true, but curiously enough this electrical device, and the others that
they used, dated from the time of their exodus from Atlantis. The
records proved conclusively that electricity was known and utilized on
that lost continent.
The gold which was so plentiful in the valley was taken from mines in
the center of one of the neighboring mountains, connected with the
hidden city by a broad tunnel. The supply was practically inexhaustible.
Other metals were found in the walls of Aota, and this accounted for
many of the caverns we noticed.
We learned that the beautiful rubies came from the subsoil of the valley
itself, and the Tcha skillfully cut and polished them, using them for
ornamenting even the most common articles of use. When Ama saw that we
admired the rubies she took us to the gem-cutters’ building and gave us
a pocketful each of choice and brilliant stones—fully enough plunder to
repay us for our eventful journey, had we been able to carry it away.
But if we were to be sacrificed to their blood-thirsty god the Sun, we
would never need rubies again.
It was very hard for Ama to decide which of the strangers was to be
preserved from sacrifice as the reward for saving her life. She seemed
to grow quite fond of Chaka, as the days passed by. He often sat at her
feet telling, like Othello, the story of his life and adventures, while
she listened with fascinated interest. Moreover, he was atkayma of the
Itzaex, and therefore far outranked any of the rest of us, who could
claim no such high sounding titles.
Chaka was, as I have remarked, an exceedingly handsome fellow, and his
soft brown eyes grew expressive whenever he turned them upon the
bewitching priestess. Ama was permitted—nay, required—to marry, and
being supreme among her race could choose her own husband. I sometimes
wondered if it would be the fate of the young atkayma to become the
husband of Ama.
But there was Paul, too, and our friend the lieutenant had by this time
fallen as desperately in love with the girlish priestess as had Chaka.
While he lacked the personal beauty of the Maya chieftain Paul was
white, and therefore to my mind a more fitting mate for the beautiful
Ama. He also belonged to the powerful American people whom the priestess
had come by this time to fully respect, and that was in his favor too.
Really, it was all guesswork as to which admirer she might prefer, for
the girl treated them with equal frankness and consideration.
Once, when she sat apart with Chaka, I overheard him urging her to free
Paul.
“It was Paul who saved you,” said he. “No other deserves the reward.”
Another time Allerton pleaded for the atkayma, saying that unless Chaka
had caught her as Paul stumbled she would have been crushed.
I was glad to find myself disregarded in the matter, since I knew very
well my service in crying a warning was not to be compared with what
they had done. It must have amused Ama to hear these two brave fellows
each plead for the other, for at last she said:
“You must decide it between yourselves, and I will abide by the
decision.”
This mischievous shift accomplished nothing at all, as the girl plainly
foresaw. They argued with one another until the deadlock became more set
than ever. They proposed to leave it to me to decide, and I refused to
interfere. Neither would any of our party umpire the case. In despair
they told Ama it was up to her again.
She shook her head and sent for the ancient High Priest, curtly bidding
him keep awake and attend to what she said.
“I cannot decide which of these three strangers actually saved me from
death,” said she. “It is natural I should be grateful to all three, for
which reason it is unjust to force me to decide the question. Therefore
I command you, by virtue of your office, to say, and at once, which
shall be pardoned and so saved from the sacrifice.”
“I’ll think it over,” sighed the High Priest.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” declared Ama, imperiously. “To-morrow
some one of these devoted ones must be selected for the sacrifice of
Adakalpa, the Feast of the Harvest. Gather thy wits then, my counselor,
and speak!”
“May I sit down?” asked the ancient one, wearily.
“No, for you would then fall asleep. I command you to decide between
these three—” she pointed to where we were lined up in a row “—at once.
Then you may return to your couch.”
The High Priest yawned and blinked his watery eyes at us.
“Pardon all three,” he announced. “Each had a hand in the matter, and it
will save us the bother of choosing between them, perhaps unjustly.”
Ama sat up, laughing. She clapped her hands delightedly.
“Oh, wise and clever counselor!” she cried. “Your decree shall be
obeyed. Sleep, now, if it pleases you, for Chaka, Paul and Samsteele,”
so she always called me, rolling my two names into one, “are from this
moment free and honored subjects of Tcha.”
I think the old fellow who had thus favored us was half asleep before
they had led him back to the gate. As for Paul, Chaka and I, we shook
hands heartily and congratulated one another. The same idea was
uppermost in the minds of all three—that our freedom might lead to our
being able to free our comrades.