The name of the city was Mayapan and the king who had been merely a village chief was the celebrated Cocomes of the olden times.
Votan, the People's Heart
ONE evening the Golden Hearted saw a ball of fire rise in the East just about where the Happy Island was located, and it followed the course of the sun. Then he knew it was time for him to take some of the wise men and go into a new place, so he lay awake long into the night and thought how best to begin to get ready. He knew the people loved him very much, but he remembered his oath to his father, the king, and though he was sad at heart, he determined to leave the next day but one. He had not yet spoken to anybody about his intention, but it must have been right else it would not have happened that a whole lot more wise men came to the city that very day.
"Now," he said to himself, "I can leave these wise men to help the poor natives, and I will take seven of their families with me."
Seeing that it was daybreak and the sun about to rise, the Golden Hearted sprang out of bed and hastily washing his face and hands, threw the window wide open and lifting his arms high overhead said:
"Hail! Beauty of the Day! Homage to thee who riseth above the horizon. I come near to thee. Thou openest the gates of another day. Great Illuminator out of the golden, place thyself as a protector behind me. Guide and keep me safe on the journey that I am about to undertake."
Then he dressed himself as quickly as possible and went out to find the wise men and tell them what he was going to do. They were willing to go with him, but King Cocomes was greatly disappointed, though he felt more contented when the Golden Hearted promised to come back again.
"Quiet thy heart, great king, and trust in my love," was what the young prince said to him.
The travelers had to pass through the country of the Quinames who were a very wild people. They went about naked with long matted hair hanging over their shoulders, and they ate raw meat, fruits and herbs. They knew nothing about cooking, but could make pulque, a kind of beer, out of maguey plant, a cousin of the cactus family. On this they often got very drunk. Then they were fierce and quarrelsome. At all times these people were proud of their strength and cunning in battle and in hunting the ferocious beasts roaming over the hills and plains. The Quinames were really a dreadful set of men, but the Golden Hearted was not afraid of them. He heard all kinds of stories about their cruelty and savage ways of living, but he went quietly among them and parceled out the land and showed them how to cultivate it. The Quinames lived entirely by hunting and fishing and had no houses. When one place did not suit them any longer, they moved to another, and would never have learned how to live civilized except for the coming of the prince and the wise men.
And what a terrible journey it was! It was in a tropic country where there was so much warm rain that everything grew rank and luxuriant. For whole days the Golden Hearted marched in the shadow of ferns as big as trees and the ground was covered with briers and nettles. Sometimes he had to go around muddy swamps or right through bushes filled with snakes. Then, too, he had to swim across wide rivers and climb steep, rocky mountains. In the tangled leaves and vines hundreds of parrots screamed and screeched at them, while on all sides the monkeys threw sticks from the branches of the trees. Gnats and other poisonous insects stung his hands and face.
He traveled like this many days. Whenever he went into camp, the Golden Hearted would invite the Quinames to dine with him in order that he might teach them how to eat cooked food out of dishes. They could not understand the use of cups and basins, because they drank out of cocoa-nut shells and had never seen a napkin or tablecloth. They had always been in the habit of taking the food in their fingers and pulling it apart, and were not very nice about keeping their hands clean either.
Of course, all this was very disagreeable to the Golden Hearted, but he was as patient and kind as possible and those fierce Quinames would not have harmed a hair in his head. When they asked him where he was going he always answered, "To seek my brothers, the Culebra, of whom thou shalt know more by and by."
"And from where comest thou?"
"From the mountain of Little Descent, and where I tarry, there will I build Nachan, the city of Serpents."
The ignorant barbarians did not know that the word serpent meant wisdom in the language of the Happy Island, but the wise men were much pleased because they knew that this city was to be a great seat of learning and that they would have charge of the temples and schools when it was completed.
"Who art thou and thy followers?" was often asked of them on the way.
"We are Chanes and the sons of Chanes," but this did not mean anything to the savages either, because they did not know that "Chane" was the name of the wise men in their own country.
One day a culprit was brought before the Golden Hearted accused of stealing a curious looking stick with yellow grains fastened all around it. The Quinames said it was good food and they pulled off its green wrappings and held it before the fire until it was browned and then ate it. The Golden Hearted and the wise men had never seen this plant before and were very much interested in their discovery. But they did not think it well to say so.
"Dost thou say this man is a thief?" asked the Golden Hearted.
"Yes, yes; we knew where the bush grew, but we were waiting until it should be more yellow before giving it to thee," said the captors.
"I will prove thee," said the Golden Hearted to the accused. He took a piece of finely-polished black stone from his breast pocket and held it up before the prisoner saying, "Look into its shining face and beholding thine own image, swear by the Heart of Heaven to speak the truth."
The poor savage nearly died of fright when he saw himself because he thought it was an omen of instant death. He quaked and trembled and his eyes were as big and round as walnuts.
"From whence came this goodly seed?" asked the Golden Hearted kindly.
"From the edge of the wood where a silver band of water rots an old tree," answered the man, still pallid with fear.
"Take thy share, and leave me what thy accusers intended for me."
The prisoner stared at him stupidly for a moment then his better nature spoke and he took only one grain, and would have fled into the jungle if the Golden Hearted had not caught him by the mantle.
"Look again into the mirror of truth."
This time the savage was not so afraid and he gazed curiously at the stone for some time. Its surface was perfectly blank.
"Tell me what thou seest?"
"Nothing but its own dark face speaks to the eye of thy servant," responded the accused.
"Then know, my brothers," said the Golden Hearted turning to the astonished Quinames, "this man is innocent and must go free."
"Thou art welcome to my life," exclaimed the accused joyfully; "thou hast saved it and it is thine to command."
"Use it to perfect the growth of this strange seed so that thy fellows and all grain-eating creatures may profit by thy labors."
The grain found in this manner is known to the people of that country to-day as maize. We call it Indian corn.
When the wise men heard about it, they begged the Golden Hearted to let them build a white house where any one accused of crime would be safe until the judges could decide whether they were guilty or not. The prince thought it was a very good plan and said:
"I will put the black stone in it and will make a law that no man shall be called guilty if the surface of the stone does not change when he is made to look into it. And to commemorate our safe passage through this wild country, I will order several white houses built, and each one shall be called Refuges Against Fear."
In those days no one seemed to think it was wrong to kill a person who was said to be a thief or had done anything his neighbors did not like, so it was very necessary for the Golden Hearted to teach them to be just to each other. He told the Quinames that they must be sure about a thing before they acted harshly, and he cautioned them to be careful about believing or repeating unkind remarks they heard. It was quite a long time before the Quinames would even try to do this, but finally they helped to build the houses and were honorable enough not to harm any one once inside the walls. Many a useful life was saved in this manner, but sometimes a poor refugee was overtaken and beaten to death with clubs before reaching the house.
Because the Golden Hearted succeeded in persuading the warlike Quinames to live peaceably with their neighbors and to treat each other well, he was called in that and many other countries, Votan, The People's Heart, to distinguish him from the Heart of Heaven which was their name for God. His was truly a great work because it was done without a selfish motive and for no reward except the good of his fellow men.
Lord of the Sacred Tunkel
NO one living can tell how many years ago it was that the Golden Hearted built Nachan, the city of wise men, nor how many years it took to do the work, but it has always been said to be a very beautiful place. Anyhow, it was after he left the Quinames, and it was in a country very much more civilized.
The Golden Hearted had many happy days there.
Even if he was a grown man and a great prince, he was very fond of children and one day he visited the Temple of the Sun where the pupils from school were having a holiday. They all had on their best clothes, and their faces and hands were clean, but they were shouting, and singing and playing games, very much like the boys and girls we know. They felt sure that the Golden Hearted was their good friend and when they saw him coming they ran out into the courtyard and crowded around him as thick as flies.
"A story! a story!" they said; "Please, good Prince, tell us a story."
"What shall it be about?" asked the Golden Hearted with a pleasant smile.
"Something very perfect and beautiful," they said.
"Let me think what we have in the world that is both perfect and beautiful. Which would you prefer, something man has made, or that God has made?"
The children were very much puzzled to know which to choose. They tried hard to think what man had made that was without any faults and could not be imitated or improved, either in appearance or quality, but they were not satisfied with anything. Then they began to think about the trees, the flowers, the precious stones, the sky and the sea, and were getting more and more confused all the time when the Golden Hearted laughed and said:
"I will tell you what we will do. We will send for the wise men and ask them to choose."
The wise men thought it was great fun, so they hurried as fast as they could and were quite out of breath when they got near enough to speak to the Golden Hearted.
"Tell me something you know in the world that is both perfect and beautiful," he said to the wise man who had charge of the Temple of the Sun, and was first to arrive.
"The great, blazing, glorious sun," he replied.
"None but God could have made it, and we adore it and sacrifice to it because it is the mask behind which God hides His ever-smiling face."
Many of the children shaded their eyes with their hands and took a quick look at the sun overhead, and thought that was a good answer.
"What do you know in the world that is both perfect and beautiful?" asked the prince of the next comer, who was a man wise in the art of working metals. He had not heard the first answer, but, without stopping a minute to think, said:
"Gold; because it is like the substance of the sun and cannot be made by putting any metals together nor by any mixture of chemicals."
The Golden Hearted knew that was a correct answer but he wanted the children to be satisfied, and he was not sure that all of them understood it.
"Do you know that way down in the earth gold is created, and yet it is shining and bright and yellow like the light of the sun? This accounts for its beauty, and it is perfect because it is absolutely pure in itself."
The next man that came along was wise, but he looked like a farmer.
"What have you seen in your life that cannot be improved or made prettier?"
"Wheat," was his quick reply, "because it is not a blend of any of the grains or grasses but grows out of the ground perfect. It is beautiful in every phase of its life whether it waves in the wind like a sea of emeralds or ripens into great sheaves of gold, or its plump grains tempt you to satisfy hunger. It is the best friend man has, and it would be very hard for him to live without it."
That was such a sensible answer, that the children all clapped their hands with delight because they knew at once that it was correct. Just then the Golden Hearted looked up and saw one of his best perfumers in the group of wise men.
"Will you give us an answer to this question?" he asked.
"I should differ from all the others"—began the man.
"Never mind, tell us what in your line is the most perfect and beautiful thing you know."
"A jasmine blossom," replied the perfumer, "because its delicate odor cannot be imitated no matter what combination of oils or extracts we make. I cannot say that of any other flower in the world."
The children could have answered that question themselves if they had only thought quickly enough. They were quite familiar with the dainty little white flowers and tender vine of the jasmine as well as its sweet smell, because it grew wild in their country.
While the perfumer was talking, the Golden Hearted picked up a shining pebble near his feet.
"Now, children," he said, "in this small rough stone I find something perfect and beautiful. It is an opal, the only one of the precious gems I do not know how to counterfeit. Join hands, as many of you as can, and dance around me while I sing you a song about the birth of the opal."
One of the wise men gave him a Sacred Tunkel, a kind of guitar which he brought from the Temple of the Sun, and this was what he sang:
The Birth of the Opal
A dew drop came with a spark of flame
He had caught from the sun's last rays
To a violet's breast, where he lay at rest
Till the hours brought back the day.
The rose looked down with a blush and a frown
But she smiled all at once to view
Her own bright form with its coloring warm
Reflected back by the dew.
Then the stranger took a stolen look
At the sky so soft and blue,
And a leaflet green with its silver sheen
Was seen by the idler too.
A cold north wind, as he thus reclined,
Of a sudden raged around,
And a maiden fair, who was walking there
Next morning an opal found.
Some of the pupils were inclined to think that the singing of the Golden Hearted was the most perfect and beautiful they had ever heard and they all liked to listen to the low plaintive notes of the Tunkel. Those that could not take part in the dance gathered around their teachers and asked:
"What shall we do to honor the good prince and show him how much we appreciate his efforts to amuse and please us?"
"Ask him to allow you to answer your own question," they said, "and then tell him something about your feathered friends. Have you forgotten the hermit of the woods with its rainbow plumes three feet long and its gay scarlet breast?"
The name of this bird is the Quetzal, and it lives on the high mountain tops all alone and is only about the size of a pigeon.
When the Golden Hearted finished singing and the dancers were all standing still, a bright-faced boy approached and said, "We have an answer to our own question, good prince."
"Say on, my little man, I am listening to you."
"It is the Quetzal, the rarest bird in the world, and the most perfect and beautiful of all feathered creatures. With its brilliant luster plumes I crown you Lord of the Sacred Tunkel, as a reward for your sweet singing. May the children of every land know and love you as we do."
The Golden Hearted was much surprised and pleased with his new crown and ever after wore the feathers of the Quetzal in his head dress. So long as he remained in Nachan, he was called the Lord of the Sacred Tunkel because he could play so well upon this queerly-shaped guitar.
The Stars' Ball
IT was not so very long after the children had crowned him Lord of the Sacred Tunkel until the Golden Hearted planned to have them all with him again. He made up his mind to spend his lifetime teaching because he thought that was the most useful thing he could do, but he was determined to make the lessons for the children as pleasant as possible. He and the wise men taught the older people how to divide the days into weeks, months and years, and how to make a calendar, and all about the sun and the moon and the stars, but this was too hard for the children. So he decided to take them up on the roof of the Temple of the Sun in the moonlight and tell them some simple pretty story about the sky at night.
In that country, the houses were built with flat roofs covered with red tiles, and there was either a ladder or a winding staircase from the ground, so it was not much trouble to get up on the roof. In fact, many of the dwellings had beautiful potted plants up there, and it was really a pleasant place to go of a warm summer evening. This night there was not a breath of air, and the children did not need anything on their heads nor any wraps. Only around the lower edges of the sky were there clouds and these were soft and white like big piles of cotton. The whole heavens looked like a bright blue veil thickly sprinkled with diamonds. It was very still and quiet and there were so many flowers in bloom that the very atmosphere was fragrant with them. In the mill pond close by the frogs croaked, and around the eaves of the houses the crickets and katydids were singing an evening hymn.
It was just a lovely night to go out and nearly every one was in the street. The doors and windows were wide open, and the people went about bareheaded and laughed and chatted to their heart's content.
"The goodness of this perfect night be upon my little friends," said the prince, when he came up on the roof of the Temple and found a lot of children he knew. "I have invited you to witness the stars' ball to-night, but before we begin, I must introduce you to the most prominent ones."
Then he pointed out the milky way with its millions of stars that looked like little pin heads in a band of light because they were so far away. Below the handle of the big dipper, and off to one side was the north star. Jupiter with his broad dark bands and tiny moons was there, and so was Saturn with his three rings. Over in another place was Mars twinkling and batting his eyes as if he wanted to fight something. The Dog Star was still lower down and quite by himself.
"I will first make you acquainted with the big-faced, silver moon," said the prince. "She is sailing along as if she were in a great hurry, but there will be time enough for you to see the man up there if you look sharp about it."
The children knew there was not a surely man in the moon so they all laughed and clapped their hands and then threw kisses at the beautiful queen of the night.
"I cannot show you Mercury, the messenger of the sun, because he is such a sleepy head he has already gone to bed. He never stays up long after the sun goes down, but he is an industrious little fellow and often gets up first in the morning."
The children thought that was a very funny way to speak of a star, but they saw the prince was in a good humor and they enjoyed listening to what he said.
"Venus is our evening star," he continued, pointing to the brightest object in the western sky, "and she is winking and smiling at us. Look closely now, and see if you can find her."
When all the children had seen her, the Golden Hearted turned to another part of the heavens and said, "Here is old Father Time, who frowns and scowls, and finally grinds the life out of our bodies." He was speaking about Saturn because it rolls and tumbles one way while its three rings whirl around the other way, and all the people in olden times believed that the stars could give good or bad luck and could make our lives long or short. There were a number of this kind of fortune tellers among the wise men, so of course the prince knew what they thought about the stars. The children understood it too, and when he pointed out Saturn, they said to each other in a whisper, "It is the death star; let us hope it will not shine upon us nor upon those we love."
"If we have need to fear the Master of Time, we have every reason to love the broad-belted planet with its sturdy little companions. It has been rightly named 'The Beneficent,'" said the prince—indicating the position of Jupiter among the stars. "Its children pop in and out behind it as if they were playing hide and seek."
For ages people thought that Jupiter gave them good luck and made them wise, tender and kind. This is why the children said, "The big, white, shining star has a heart like our prince."
Mars is the nearest planet to us, and he sputters and fumes as if he really had as bad a temper as these people credited him with. All the wars and troubles they had came from him, they said, and the children did not care to look at him very long. He gives out a beautiful red light, while Jupiter is bluish white, and the Dog Star has all colors like the rainbow.
"Now," said the prince, "I will show you the most important group in the sky. It is the Pleiades, directly over our heads at this time. There are seven of these sisters, and the pale, dim one is the center of the whole system of stars because all the rest of them circle around her."
Then he explained to them how each star and planet, as well as the earth, turns over and over of its own accord, besides going around the sun in a very wide circle. All the stars are wonderful tumblers and they spin around just like tops, and this whirling motion was what made the prince say that they were having a ball. When they twinkled and sparkled, he said they were dancing.
As soon as he sat down, one of the children got the Sacred Tunkel, and then some took hold of his hands, others held on to his mantle and still others put their arms around his neck and begged him to sing for them. He did not wish to refuse them, but he did not know any song suitable for the occasion so he made this up as he went along:
Oh! the stars one and all
They had a great ball
One night way up in the sky;
They invited the earth
To join in their mirth
But it feared to go up so high.
No fiddler had they
Their music to play,
And the stars were afraid 'twould fail;
But the man in the moon
He whistled a tune
And the comet kept time with his tail.
They danced and they danced,
And they pranced and they pranced,
Till the moon said 'twas all he desired,
For his lips were so sore
He could whistle no more,
And the comet began to get tired.
So they faded away
In the dim light of day
The moon and the stars from the ball.
But, sad to relate,
Next night they were late,
And came near not shining at all.