WE LOSE POOR PEDRO
The edict of the High Priest was proclaimed to the people in the great
theatre and received with the same composure that our condemnation had
been. Thereafter we three wandered at will throughout the valley,
unguarded and unmolested. We were offered a palace, but retained our
quarters in the house of the priests, to be with our comrades, and there
in secret conference we decided upon our mode of procedure for the
future.
Escape from Tcha by means of the steep walls of rock was an
impossibility, unless we could stumble upon one of those secret tunnels
that led to the outer declivities. Even then it would be difficult for
us to get the sacrificial victims out of the temple enclosure.
Compassing all this, however, it was likely we would be followed and
either recaptured or slain before we could reach the Itzaex country. If
not we would be in the power of either Uncle Datchapa, if he still
lived, or the red robed devils of priests, who would have no hesitation
in promptly murdering us.
No; it would not do at all. We had only one hope of escape: to recover
our gas-jackets and soar above the valley, over the forests and back to
the ship where my father was by this time anxiously awaiting us.
So we decided that Paul, Chaka and I, being free to go and come at our
pleasure, must begin a careful and cautious search for the place where
our confiscated property had been deposited. We judged this would be one
of the warehouses where public supplies were kept.
Next day we started on our secret mission, each going a different way. I
had been instructed to seek out the officer who had first arrested us
and robbed us in the prison, and try to pump him; so after breakfast I
sauntered away through the city, past the theatre and along the flower
bordered paths that led to the low white building near the center of the
valley.
I met one of the soldiers, or “public guardians,” on my way, and found
him not loth to enter into conversation. He told me the officer’s name
was Pagatka and his rank that of Waba, or Captain. He did not know where
the Waba Pagatka might be found; the officer was likely to be anywhere
that duty called him.
When I began cautiously to refer to the property that had been taken
from us the fellow withdrew into a shell of reserve. He admitted he had
been one of those who had surrounded us and led us into the prison; but
after that he had returned to his home and knew nothing of subsequent
happenings. I deemed it wise not to press him or arouse his suspicions
as to what I was after. He parted from me presently and went his own
way.
My search for the Waba Pagatka was unsuccessful. I entered the great
hall of the prison, where a small guard was stationed, and was allowed
to go anywhere I pleased. All the smaller rooms but one were unoccupied.
Here a man was confined who had quarreled with his neighbor and in the
heat of argument had used bad language. He told me he regretted the
occurrence, as it had seriously disgraced him.
There was no place here where our gas-jackets and electrites were likely
to be hidden. The soldier in charge thought I might find the Waba in the
manufacturing district, so I left the prison and began my journey toward
the upper end of the valley.
The air was sweet and invigorating, for the altitude, even here in the
cup of the mountain, was considerable and rendered the climate
delightful. Everywhere the farmers were busy in their fields, and
centuries of cultivation seemed not to have exhausted the soil in the
least. Perhaps they had learned how to fertilize and restore it; anyhow,
the crops were bountiful and not a weed nor rank growth of any sort was
to be seen.
At midday I reached a dwelling at the north edge of the city, and asked
for food. It was willingly furnished and in abundance, for every
inhabitant of Tcha was entitled to his neighbor’s hospitality, all
supplies being provided by the government.
During the afternoon I wandered about the district of the artisans
trying to catch sight of the elusive Waba Pagatka, but failing dismally.
I took occasion, however, to look into several warehouses, and found
them all filled with the handicraft of the people or with raw material
to be worked up. Returning, I circled the city and passed the weavers’
dwellings, where I was greatly interested in the looms these clever
people had invented. They wove the finest linen I have ever seen, and a
material much worn by the women which seemed to me softer and more
exquisitely finished than the best of our silks. Yet it was not made
from the cocoon of the silk worm, but from a reed that was shredded into
hair-like filaments. It was really wonderful how great a variety of
things were grown, mined and manufactured by a few people in a tiny
shut-in place like this.
It was late before I reached the palace of the priests and I was both
hungry and tired by my day’s tramp. Entering the large room reserved for
us I found my comrades sitting with solemn faces, silent and depressed.
Paul and Chaka were there, so they had evidently been as unsuccessful as
myself.
I glanced around the circle.
“Where’s Pedro?” I asked.
“They have taken him,” said Paul sadly.
“Where to?”
“To the sacrifice.”
I started back in horror.
“The sacrifice!”
“Yes,” returned Allerton. “It seems to-day is the Feast of the Harvest,
and when the sun is highest in the sky—at midday, that is—they sacrifice
to their god in gratitude for the ripening of the grain. Ama spoke of
this yesterday, but I had forgotten it. This morning, while we were
away, the priests came here and forced the boys to draw cuts, without
explaining what it was for. Poor Pedro drew the lot, and was led away—he
knew not where.”
I shuddered.
“Poor Pedro, indeed!” said I. “How did you learn all this?”
“Oh, there was no secret about it afterward,” spoke up Archie, gloomily.
“They brought in three of their precious priests dead as herrings, and
five that were badly done up and in need of repairs. There was wild
excitement in this bungalow for a time, as you may guess, and it didn’t
take us long to get the whole story from the chattering, frightened
crowd. It seemed poor Pedro was dazed when first he discovered he was to
be sacrificed to the sun, and he walked like a man in a dream to the
slaughtering pen—up in the great temple yonder. But he woke up when they
came at him with a knife, and died game, like the brave fellow he was.”
“First,” continued Joe, taking up the thread of the story, for Archie
was trying to swallow a lump in his throat, “Pedro grabbed two of the
priests and bumped their heads together so fiercely that their skulls
cracked like egg-shells. Then he caught another by the ankles and swung
him around, felling the crowd that rushed on him with this living
battering-ram. Living for a time, that is, for when he finally let go
the fellow was mashed to a pulp.”
“Of course,” added Ned Britton, “they got Pedro at last, as they were
bound to do when his strength gave out, and I suppose his heart’s blood
is now in a golden pan, exposed to the rays of their god the sun, who
will drink it up. Pah! Before they carved old Pedro, though, he yelled
out that he had given the sun a few extra sacrifices to keep him
company, and he only wished there had been more in reach of his arm.”
“It was dreadful,” said Paul. “The old High Priest had a fit, it seems,
and they can’t tell yet whether he’ll live or die.”
“Was Ama there?” I asked.
“Certainly,” said Archie, in an indignant tone. “The girl’s as cold
blooded as the rest of the gang.”
“It is her religion,” declared Chaka, defending her. “She knows no
better, and considers it just and right to sacrifice to the Sun-God. But
when Pedro began to fight so desperately she at once arose and retired
from the scene.”
This horrible news had rendered me as sad and gloomy as the others.
Silently we sat, wondering if a similar fate would overtake us all. I,
being no longer in personal danger, reproached myself for leaving my
comrades at such a time; yet I knew I could not have saved Pedro from
his fate.
“Hereafter,” said Ned, “they intend to bind the victims. This is the
first time any one has ever fought them, it seems, and the priests won’t
take chances after this deadly experience.”
“Too bad, Mars’ Sam,” said Nux, regretfully. “I like to kill a few Tcha
before I die, too. But if dey ties me up, I sutt’nly can’t.”
The result of Pedro’s exploit was to render the priests fearful of the
rest of us. Our quarters were that evening changed to a small wing at
the rear of their palace, which jutted out toward the temple. It was but
one story in height and could be shut off entirely from the main
building by a heavily barred door. They gave us our supper—we were
always liberally fed—and then closed the barrier between us.
Examining this new apartment I was surprised to find it much less secure
as a prison than our former quarters. Indeed, it was no trouble at all
for any of us to lower ourselves from the window to the ground. But
evidently the priests were more anxious about their own safety than
about ours, and there was little danger of the sacrificial victims being
able to escape very far, even if they managed to avoid the guards at the
gates.
The air grew very oppressive this night and the heat was intense—a new
experience to us, for we had found the nights cool. Toward morning the
wing in which we were confined began to sway from side to side with a
sickening motion, and one lurch sent me rolling from my couch to the
stone floor.
As I sat up the commotion ceased as suddenly as it had begun.
“An earthquake!” exclaimed Paul, unmasking the electric light. “It’s a
wonder the building didn’t topple down on our heads.”
“Are earthquakes common here?” I asked Chaka.
He shook his head.
“Not common,” said he; “but about once in a lifetime we get some little
shakes; nothing as bad as this, though.”
Next morning the sun shone as serenely as ever and when we walked out we
found but little damage had been done in the valley. But the people had
become sadly disquieted by the occurrence, and the priests especially,
for some secret reason, were in a state of great fear and perturbation.
They talked excitedly among themselves and sent constant messages to
Ama, not using the telephone because they feared we might overhear them.
Suspecting that more trouble was brewing Paul, Chaka and I resolved not
to quit our comrades this day, but remain and watch the course of
events. We had all been alike unsuccessful the day before in locating
our property, and now we judged it wise to postpone the search to
another time.