which was indeed a sign manual of submission and servitude. If at any
time during the rest of his life, Oghi showed signs of rebellion, Yermah
had but to pull the chain and the left foreleg was doubled up close to
the body, while the collar around the neck became uncomfortably tight.
Iaqua, Yermah’s official residence, was surrounded by an immense
octagonal enclosure, and was approached by two beautiful gates. The one
due north closed a roadway composed of tiny sea-shells, extending to the
bay and overlooking the Golden Gate. The other was a terminus of a
foot-path of flagging which led to the Observatory. Here the adobe was
laid in irregular forms and covered with stucco.
Iaqua’s eight towers were circular in form and had battlements and
winding stairways. Each was furnished with deep-set octagon loopholes
for observation, and comfortably accommodated twenty men. The entrance
was a door opening into the courtyard and connecting with a passageway
under the terrace. It was this opening fitted with loopholes which
really made the building a fortification.
The whole structure was flat-roofed, having battlements of hard wood
plated with lead. The lower floor of each tower was used as a guardroom,
being furnished with huge tables and benches which followed the outline
of the room. There were stools of terra-cotta, porcelain and hard woods
elaborately carved where the body-guard suite of the Dorado lived. In
each tower, one above the other, were two sleeping apartments of equal
size with mess-rooms attached.
As Yermah galloped up through the wide southern gate, the courtyard
filled with members of his staff. As he swung lightly from the saddle,
it was noticed that Cibolo showed signs of the morning work. Yermah led
his charger to the stable door, and, as he was being rubbed down, gave
him some salt and patted him affectionately.
Oghi took offense at this show of partiality, and leaping over the back
of the horse, stood uncomfortably near Yermah, the hair along his spinal
column on end and his tail straight and threatening. Yermah spoke
sharply to the ocelot.
Disturbed by the commotion, a flock of parrots having the freedom of
Cibolo’s crib began to screech and to chatter, as if they not only
comprehended but sympathized with Oghi’s jealousy. In less than a minute
they were vigorously fighting among themselves, and Yermah, unable to
make himself heard above the noise and din, fled incontinently.
Cibolo came from Poseidon’s stud, whence his ancestry was traced back
many generations. He had all the qualities which conduced to endurance
and speed. Cibolo’s bright eyes gave evidence of energy and splendid
nerve, and he carried himself like a king. His straight neck and perfect
joints were connecting links of a muscular system of great power. In the
center of a wide, flat forehead was a star, and the glossy coat of hair
distinctly outlined a delicate tracery of veins. The nostrils were wide
and open, while the mobile ears, set well apart were small and straight.
Never in his life had the horse been struck a blow. He was docile,
obedient, affectionate and intelligent.
With fine-cut horn brushes, the groom set to work removing every
particle of dust and sweat from his skin, smoothing every hair into its
proper place, until it shone like fine satin. The mane and tail were
combed like human hair and plaited into tight strands, which would be
loosened only when he was harnessed to the chariot, later in the day. As
became the station of his master, the head ornaments, saddles, coronas
and trappings worn when hitched to the chariot were masses of jewels,
feathers, silver bells and embroidery.
Yermah went directly to his private apartments in the eastern quadrangle
of Iaqua. The approaches to this part of the house were screened by
trellises covered with flowering creepers. After a plunge and a shower
of both salt and fresh water, followed by a liberal use of lavender
spray, of which the Dorado was extremely fond, he emerged from the hands
of his dresser with a glow of health and happiness on his face. He
lingered but a moment in the hallway, then crossed over to the extreme
eastern triangle, which was a private sanctuary where he often went to
consult the oracle Orion on personal matters.
The statue was of carved alabaster exquisitely proportioned. It
represented the figure of a man, with diamond eyes, whose head supported
a jeweled miter terminating in a point. The belt which confined the
loose robe at the waist line had three solitaires of purest water which
were supposed to grow dim if the petitioner were not in good health or
was in danger. If these stones became opaque or colorless, the
phenomenon gave rise to most dismal forebodings.
Orion was placed in a square niche exactly facing the rising sun,
holding a fan and a sickle in the hand. A window of jeweled glass let in
the first rays of the morning, lighting up the gold and silver
ornamentation back of the figure. The right side was of gold, the left
of silver—one typifying the sun, the other the moon. Back of the head,
suspended from the ceiling, was a splendid panache of green feathers
dusted with jewels, and above this was a crystal ball, whose knobby
surface reflected rainbow colors in circles and zones. At the feet was a
bas-relief representing a golden humming bird flying over water which
was a symbol of Atlantis.
The prayer-rug in front of the statue was of ivory, woven in strips. It
was as flexible as cloth and beautifully fine. The double-key pattern,
characteristic of pre-historic America, formed the border; but this was
much broken and most effective with its shadings of black, skillfully
intermingled with filigree carvings. Pastils of incense burned on the
altar—peace and quiet reigned supreme.
The Dorado was a child of promise; that is to say, he had been set apart
as the future ruler of the island of Atlantis and her outlying colonies.
By the Brotherhood of the White Star he had been consecrated, before he
was born, to a life of service. Yermah was a veritable sun-god, and as
the subdued light fell over his long, wavy blond hair and beard, while
kneeling before the oracle, he was a specimen of manhood fair to look
upon.
Tall, broad-shouldered and athletic, with not a pound of flesh too much,
his countenance was as open and frank as that of a child. His large,
round, clear-seeing blue eyes were placed exactly on a normal line—eyes
whose truthfulness could not be questioned; and the slightly arched
heavy brows indicated physical strength and mental power. Yermah had a
large hand evenly balanced and well formed. The joints of the fingers
were of equal length, ending in round pink nails, denoting liberal
sentiments as well as love of detail. The small, clean-cut ear helped to
bear out other testimony of his having been born during the morning
hours. Ever mindful of the little courtesies of life, both in bestowing
and receiving, he was a model of propriety and dignity even as a youth.
Yermah possessed a nature which aroused others to the highest degree of
activity. Unfortunately this activity was as liable to be against as for
his interests. He was high-spirited and resolute, but generous and
sympathetic. As a friend he was considerate and faithful. As an orator
he was magnetic, and irresistible; and as the shoulders are the
thermometer of feeling he made many gestures with them.
On the spur of the moment, under the dominating influence of emotion,
the Dorado sometimes acted without thinking, but he was incapable of
harboring malice. In later life this qualified him for arbitration, when
the necessities of the people demanded its exercise.
“The peace of a perfect day be with thee, Yermah,” said Akaza, the
hierophant.
He kissed the Dorado on the right cheek, the forehead, and then on the
left cheek, as he stood clasping the young man’s arms, murmuring the
names of the three attributes of Divinity. Only an initiate of the
highest order ever gripped an arm in precisely the same manner as Akaza
had done, and Yermah was gratified by the distinction and favor shown.
“The same sweet grace be with thee now and always,” was Yermah’s
greeting in return as he carried the long, thin, white beard of the old
man to his lips.
Then adroitly drawing Akaza’s arm through his own, he led the way to a
nook in the private sitting-room facing the sanctuary, on the threshold
of which he had encountered his visitor.
“Forgive my keeping thee waiting,” he continued. “I yielded to the
seductions of the balmy air and Cibolo’s easy gait, riding farther out
than I at first intended.”
“It were easier to make excuse hadst thou not unnecessarily cast
insinuations on Cibolo,” answered Akaza, smiling. “It is not fair to the
horse, since he is not here to make known how he was encouraged and
abetted in his labor of love. I have but arrived from Ingharep, having
completed calculations of the planets concerning our journey to
Yo-Semite.[1] Walking in slowly, I was glad of the few moments’
breathing time.”
He helped himself to some salted melon and dried anise seeds on the
platter which his host pushed toward him, but he refused the cigarette
the latter had rolled of corn-husks and filled with fine tobacco. Yermah
picked at the anise seeds after ordering a pot of chocolate and some
corn wafers.
“Wouldst thou advise me to go at once, to offer this young priestess
asylum here while negotiations are pending between Eko Tanga, the
emissary of the land of the Ian of which she is a native, and the
Monbas, holding her as hostage?”
The hierophant hesitated and looked sharply at his auditor before
replying.
“Thou hast still to overcome that which bars the entrance before thou
hast completed the labors of initiation, and I am not unmindful of thy
real destiny. Yes,” he continued deliberately, and as if the fate of an
immortal soul hung on his words, “yes. I am prepared to go with thee
into the Yo-Semite. Whatever the result of the expedition, I will help
thee to endure.”
As he ceased speaking Yermah noticed that he held both thumbs tightly
and sat motionless, save that his lips moved silently. His piercing dark
eyes focused in empty space, and he seemed for a moment far away from
his surroundings.
“And the gold which I came here to find—does it lie in that direction?
Will my initiation into the Sacred Mysteries be completed upon its
discovery?”
Yermah was carefully noting Akaza’s abstraction.
“The gold thou art to find lies in that direction, and when found the
Brotherhood of the White Star will welcome thee.”
“Then thy long journey from Atlantis will be crowned with success, and
we can return like a pair of conquerors—thou to preside over the temple
whose foundations were laid the day I was born, I to tip its spires with
virgin gold. Then the initiation, and I am ready to assume my duties as
Grand Servitor. There is but one short year in which to accomplish
this.”
“True child of the sun, full of hope and impatient of delay! Youth is
thy eternal heritage.”
“Youth, indeed!” said Yermah, with mock severity. “Thirty times will the
earth have encircled the sun when the next day of my nativity arrives. I
hope soon after that to be a family man, staid and sober.”
“What is this about a family?” queried a newcomer, a swarthy son of
Mars, who stood in the doorway. His head was without covering other than
a band of red leather, having a bull’s head and horns of agate, and a
solitaire for Aldebaran in the center with a gold boss on each side. He
wore the quilted cotton tunic of a soldier and his feet were protected
by leather sandals tipped with gold.
On the lower arm near the elbow, were several long strips of leather,
cut like a fringe, with different devices at the ends to show his
occupation as well as his prowess at arms and in games; also, the temple
or priesthood to which he belonged. Those on the right arm indicated
strength and skill; those on the left his aspirations, social and
spiritual.
Over this arm was thrown a cloak of perfumed leather, ornamented with
lustrous dyes in soft colors, which found a congenial background in the
pliant, velvety surface of the ooze finish. Around his neck was a
gorget, from which depended seven rows of beads each of a different
color.
He was a younger man than Yermah, and quite as handsome, but in a
different way. He came in with a brisk step, without hesitation, and it
was evident from his manner that he belonged to the place. He greeted
Akaza as Yermah had done, and stood waiting to be asked to join the
conclave.
Yermah handed him a curiously wrought gold cup filled with chocolate,
made as only the Aztecs, of all later races, knew how to do. It was
thick like custard, with a layer of whipped cream on top, served ice
cold and eaten with a spoon. Its nutritive qualities made it a household
confection, and it was used much as bouillon is to-day. With it was
eaten thin corn-meal wafers, rolled into fanciful shapes and browned
until crisp and dry.
“Thou art come in time to add thy counsel to mine, Orondo,” said Akaza,
kindly. “Yermah stands in need of thy assistance in a state matter of
importance, one which is certain to be fraught with momentous
consequences to all concerned.”
“I thank thee for thy courtesy. But I thought thou wert discussing
marriage when I came in. That, I believe, is my next duty, and I have
unwonted interest. As Yermah is vowed to celibacy, I fail to comprehend
the import of his words.”
Again Akaza fortified himself against conflicting emotions, and was
silent.
“Our spiritual leader bids us offer aid to the high priestess, Kerœcia,
at present with her followers worshiping in the Yo-Semite. I am expected
to visit her there and thou must bear me company.”
“Thou hast but to command me. It were best to go in state, as this may
incline them to peaceful disposition toward our future. In the valley of
the Mississippi[2] they already have strong position, and could harm me
infinitely when once I begin operations there. It were impolitic to
expose the copper deposits in that region as the metal is growing scarce
in the land of Mexi, and we would perish without it.”
“Thou wilt not see me again until we are ready for our journey; I have
need to be alone,” said Akaza, as he held up his hands in benediction,
forming an outline of the sacred fire on the altar.
Both men arose and saluted respectfully, and, without further words,
Akaza passed from the room.
CHAPTER TWO
THE CITY OF TLAMCO—ITS TEMPLES AND MARKETPLACES
The favorite breathing-place of the San Francisco of to-day is the site
of what was once the Llama city, Tlamco, stretching from the Panhandle
entrance at Golden Gate Park to the beach at the Cliff House rocks. It
was a city of seven hills, marking the orbits and the diameters of the
planets, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune, as
well as forming a map of the Pleiades.
This ancient abode of the Atlantian colonists in California was laid out
in circles, with a large temple in the center, near the east end of
Golden Gate Park at the inter-section of Haight and Shrader Streets.
From this point were twelve radiating streets, intersected by four
principal avenues, constructed on the cardinal points of the compass.
The one to the east led to Park Hill, which was terraced up to Mount
Olympus on the south, and continued on to the East Temple fortress.
The western avenue led through the center of the park proper to Round
Top, or Strawberry Hill, now ornamented with an artificial waterfall and
an encircling lake. This hill is a natural rock, upon which was
constructed the Temple of Neptune.
The corresponding thoroughfare on the north led to the Observatory and
main fortress on Lone Mountain. These roadways were crowned with fine
sand, still found in abundance in the dunes in the immediate vicinity.
There were tall three-faced obelisks of dark-red sandstone at the
outside limits of the streets, while the inner terminals were marked by
corresponding pillars of marble, similarly decorated. Single and double
cross-bars at the top of each of these were hung with huge beaten-brass
lanterns.
It was these statue obelisks, twelve in number, representing Mercury in
the twelve hours, which gave the name of Tlamco to the city. The
cognomen signified Wisdom.
These columns had three faces which literally pointed the way. The
countenance on the right was that of a bearded old man; the middle face
a laughing, sinister one, while that on the left was of a youth looking
dreamily out into the distance. The shafts were placed so that the young
sun-god faced the orb rising in the east, symbolical of the future; the
center denoted the present, and reflected the sun at mid-day, while the
old man fronted the west. Sunset typified Saturn, the Father Time of
to-day.
The figures were armless, and their legs and feet were incased in iron
coffins set on square bases of black basalt. The obelisks proper were
tapering, and at the points were covered with white enamel. The lamps
hanging from the cross-bars were furnished with opalescent glass globes,
and on the apex of the obelisks were balls of the same material
radiating the light in myriad rainbow colorings. Cut deep in the
basaltic base was the inscription:—