HUETZIN'S MIRACULOUS ESCAPE
At this supreme moment in the life of Huetzin, the young Toltec, the
scene, of which he formed the central figure, was of such a character
as to inspire a nameless fear in the hearts of all beholders. To the
silent multitude who, with upturned faces, were gathered about the
temple of their most dreaded god, awaiting the wild chant of priests
that should proclaim the sacrifice accomplished, the summit of the
lofty pyramid was lost in the pall-like blackness of the heavens. Only
a fitful gleam of altar-fire formed a point of light on which the eye
could rest. The broad space surmounting the temple was the dramatic
focus of the weird scene. About it moaned the spirits of upper air,
as though with the voices of the innumerable dead who had breathed
their last on that accursed spot. There was an absolute calm, and no
breath of wind disturbed the straight column of altar-flame that cast a
lurid light across the blood-stained platform. In front of the altar,
and clustered in a dark mass about the stone of sacrifice, were the
priests of Huitzil. Their white robes had been thrown aside, and all
the hideous features of their blood-smeared bodies and streaming locks
of matted hair were revealed. In their midst, cruelly outstretched on
the mass of polished jasper, lay the naked body of the beautiful youth
whose death was to close the pagan rites with which the great calendar
stone was dedicated.
Suddenly the dread silence was broken by a single stroke upon the huge
drum of serpent skins. Out through the blackness rolled its booming
echoes, proclaiming to the utmost limits of the city, and far beyond,
that the final act of the drama was about to be consummated. As the
significant sound smote upon the ears of those gathered at the base
of the teocal, a shuddering cry broke from the vast concourse. It was
heard by Topil, the chief priest, who had just sounded the signal,
and now strode, knife in hand, toward his waiting victim; but it only
caused him to smile scornfully. It was but another tribute to his
power, and he exulted in the natural accessories that rendered this
final scene so impressive.
As Topil stood beside his victim, Huetzin gave utterance to the prayer
recorded in the preceding chapter. Then the dread knife, that had
drunk the blood of thousands, was uplifted. Ere it could descend there
came, from out the enveloping blackness, a flash of light so vivid,
and a crash of thunder so awful, that the very earth trembled with the
shock and the mighty pyramid rocked on its foundations. A huge globe
of fire, a veritable thunderbolt of the gods launched with unerring
aim and irresistible force, had fallen on Huitzil's temple. It burst
as it struck the rock-paved summit of the teocal, and for a moment the
whole space was bathed in leaping flames of such dazzling intensity
that no mortal eye might gaze upon them. Many of the stone blocks were
shattered into fragments, the altar on which burned the eternal fire
was overthrown and its sacred flame extinguished. The priests, gathered
about the stone of sacrifice, were flung, stunned and breathless, in
every direction. Some of them, in the madness of their terror, even
leaped from the edge of the trembling platform, and were dashed to the
pavement of the courtyard far below.
An instant of darkness followed this first exhibition of the storm
god's power. While it lasted, cries of terror and lamentation arose
from all parts of the wide-spread city. From every quarter it was seen
that the sacred fire no longer burned, and into every mind flashed
the foreboding of calamity thus portended. Only for a moment was the
wrath of the storm god stayed, and then bolt upon bolt crashed above
the devoted city, their awful din mingled with the wild shriekings of
unfettered winces, and a downpour of rain that seemed like to deluge
the world.
With the first outbreak of the tempest, Huetzin, released by the
terrified priests who had held him, rolled unconscious to the pavement
beside the stone of sacrifice. When he recovered his senses and
staggered to his feet, a furious storm of wind and rain was buffeting
his naked body, while lightning glared and thunder crashed incessantly
about him. But he still lived, and of those who so recently condemned
him to death, not one was to be seen. A sudden hope sprang into his
breast, and he glanced about for a way of escape. There was none. If he
descended the long flights of steps he would certainly be apprehended
in the walled court below. He might seek a temporary refuge in the
shrine at one end of the platform; but at the best, that would only
prolong his existence for a few wretched hours. Last of all, he might
end his misery at once by a leap from the giddy verge of the platform
on which he stood. Yes, that was best. There was no other way. As he
was about to carry out this intention, a human figure rose from beyond
the sacrificial stone, and stepped to where he stood. It was that of a
priest, and, as a flash of lightning betrayed his presence, Huetzin's
impulse to seize him and force him also to take the death-leap was
checked by a sight that filled him with amazement.
A second gleam of lightning revealed the startling fact that this
priest of Huitzil was making the sacred symbol of the Toltec faith,
the sign made by his own father as his dying act, and which he
deemed unknown to any in all Tenochtitlan save himself. As he stood
motionless with amazement, the strange priest cried, in a voice to be
heard above the tumult of the storm:
"Follow me and I will save you, for I, too, know the holy sign of the
Four Winds! I, too, am a Toltec!"
With this he seized the youth's hand, and the latter allowed himself to
be led away. Instead of turning toward the outer stairway, as Huetzin
fancied they would, they entered the foul and evil-smelling shrine of
the Aztec war-god. The monstrous image, with its hideous features, was
dimly revealed by the intermittent flashes of lightning, and Huetzin
shuddered as he stood before it. To him it was the embodiment of that
cruel and cowardly religion with which the fair land of his ancestors
was cursed, and could he have destroyed it at the expense of his own
life, he would gladly have done so.
Passing swiftly to the back of the image, the priest, who had just
proclaimed himself to be of the Toltec race, caused a panel of stone
to slide noiselessly back in polished grooves, and disclosed a place
of utter blackness. Entering this he drew Huetzin after him. Then he
closed the opening, and, bidding the other stand motionless, passed his
hands carefully over the stone floor at their feet. There was a slight
grating sound, and Huetzin knew, by a sudden upflow of damp air, that
some concealed passage-way had been opened.
"Now," whispered his guide, "we are about to descend a secret stairway
known only to the chief priest and myself. Moreover, should he even
suspect that I was possessed of its knowledge, my heart would smoke on
Huitzil's altar. For this reason I claim thy oath, by the immortal God
of the Four Winds, never to reveal this secret, so long as Huitzil sits
upon his throne."
"By the sacred name of the Four Winds I swear never to reveal it,"
answered the youth.
Then they began to descend, carefully closing the opening above them,
and feeling their way with the utmost caution. The air was damp and
chill, the narrow stone steps were slippery with moisture. They formed
a stairway of zigzags, and to Huetzin it seemed as though they must
penetrate below the foundations of the temple, so long was it before
the bottom of the last flight was reached.
At the terminus of the stairway was a closed door, which only those
initiated into its secret might open. It admitted them to a long narrow
passage, from which branched other passages, as Huetzin learned by
coming upon them with his groping hands. His guide took careful note of
the number of these passages, and finally turned into one that led at
right angles to that they had been following. After a while it sloped
upward, and at its end they found themselves in a small room, which at
the same time seemed large and airy as compared with the suffocating
narrowness of the various passages they had just traversed.
Bidding Huetzin remain here for a moment, the priest left him standing
in darkness and silence that were absolute. So long a time elapsed
before his companion returned, that the young Toltec wondered if he
had escaped the altar of sacrifice only to be buried alive in this
mysterious place. While he dwelt with a sinking heart on the awful
possibilities thus presented, a door was noiselessly opened, and a
flood of light poured into the apartment. The priest, bearing a torch
in one hand and a packet in the other, entered. He was followed by a
slave, carrying a basket, at sight of whom Huetzin shrank back in alarm.
"Be not afraid," whispered the priest, noting the movement; "he is
blind and knows naught of thy presence."
As the slave set down his burden, he was dismissed and retired, closing
the door behind him. From the packet that he bore the priest produced
a robe of the coarse cotton (nequen) worn by the lower classes, with
which Huetzin gladly covered his naked body, a pair of grass sandals,
and a dagger of itztli. The basket yielded materials for a bountiful
meal, to which the young man, who had tasted no food since the night
before, sat down with the appetite of one who is famished. His
companion also ate heartily, and as he did so conversed with Huetzin,
principally of his own affairs. Of himself he only said:
"My name is Halco, and like thyself I am of the Toltec race. Why I am
here in this accursed guise, and how I came to know the secrets of
Topil, I cannot now explain. Suffice it that I am one of the bitterest
enemies of Aztec priesthood and Aztec gods. Until the moment of his
death I knew not that thy father, the brave Tlahuicol, was a Toltec, or
I might have saved him; when he made the sign it was too late. Now I
can provide thee with means of escape. Make thy way to the camp of the
white conquerors, of whom thou must have heard, and lead them to this
city. In them lies our only hope for the overthrow of Huitzil and his
bloody priesthood; when thou comest again thou shalt hear from me."
"But Tiata, my sister! I cannot leave her unprotected," interrupted
Huetzin.
"Fear not for her. For the present she is safe, and if she were not
thou couldst do nothing to help her. I will keep watch, and if dangers
beset her while thou art with the white conquerors, thou shalt be
informed. Now that thou hast eaten and regained thy strength, thy
flight must be continued. Already Topil is aware of thy escape, and he
has sworn by all the gods that thy heart shall yet smoke on Huitzil's
altar."