Chapter III: Part 3

"Ping!" and the third arrow fairly whistled as it hit the exact center of the yellow spot.

Instantly the whole crowd were on their feet, all talking at once and making so much noise that the tally keepers could not be heard.

"Five--seven--nine are the points; twenty-one for final score," they shouted.

The Golden Hearted flung down his bow and stepped to one side to make room for Wunzh. He stood wiping the perspiration off his forehead and was pleased because he saw that every one felt kindly toward him.

"Now the jossakeeds will learn how to shoot!" exclaimed the men who had backed Wunzh.

"He will never equal the first score," said others who were skillful with a bow and arrow themselves and knew how hard it was to make such fine shots.

Wunzh sent his first arrow with a vim and energy that showed he had been in constant practice, but all three of his darts sped feebly and barely indented the black ring.

"The jossakeeds hold the first station," announced the judges. "Move on to the next one."

Now came the real test of skill, and every man was interested because they all made use of the bow and arrow, in hunting and in war, and had no other kind of weapon except a knife. Hundreds of the spectators left their seats and crowded around the contestants.

The heavy hunting bow was laid aside now and one made of elastic but tough yew was substituted. The arrows had finely-pointed obsidian heads, matched and smooth but sharp as a needle.

The Golden Hearted was careful to see that the yew was properly seasoned and when satisfied, he placed the arrow on the left side of the bow with its notch set on the string. He drew the string back to just below the chin, aimed over the arrow tip and let fly.

The spectators were quick to see that his aim, draw, finish and loose was perfect even in speeding the arrows so fast they could scarcely be seen. When shooting three at a time he drove all of them into the yellow center within a quarter of an inch of each other!

The friends of Wunzh shouted and screamed:

"It is not fair! He uses too many arrows. Give us justice!" until the judges were compelled to order the warriors to drive the crowd back again with the points of their spears.

In the noise, confusion and excitement every one forgot the birds perched on a cross bar at the top of the pole supporting the target. There was a blue jay, a raven, a white dove and a green parrot. Each had a string attached to one leg. Now of course they remembered and crowded around to hear what the judges would say.

"Will the prince of the jossakeeds take a shot at the birds before being crowned with the Yew wreath of valor?"

As soon as the Golden Hearted could make himself heard he said:

"I am willing to comply with your request, but I hope I shall not hurt any of the birds."

"The parrot shall cry your aim, and must remain unharmed. You may kill the blue or the black bird, but you must release the peaceful dove uninjured. Will you remember these conditions?"

The Golden Hearted came within range and waited for a favorable opportunity. By a sudden jerk of the cord coming down the side of the pole the cross bar was set to whirling rapidly and this frightened the birds until they tried to fly away. The parrot was chained fast and to make the aim more difficult, the other birds were fastened by strings of different lengths. The marksman must free each one of them and then hit it before it could escape. The first liberated was the blue jay. The Golden Hearted cut the cord neatly and wounded the bird while it was still rising. The arrow fell near the base of the pole bringing the right wing with it.

This won him the wreath, and he now turned to the wise men for a signal. They could demand the last three shots. Would they do it? He inclined his head toward them as one of the number picked up a black flag and waved it. There was an answering shout and a cheer, and the Golden Hearted prepared to shoot again. This time he aimed at the raven and cut the string near the pole. Its weight caused the captive to fly in an oblique line downward for a moment. Quick as a flash the second arrow sped and the raven fell to the ground pierced through the heart! Without looking to see what had happened the Golden Hearted shot at the dove and as it flew up in a circle everybody saw that it was unharmed.

Then they fought and struggled with each other for the privilege of carrying the victor off the grounds, but the Golden Hearted escaped through a side door and ran away as fast as he could. He did not wish to speak to any one nor have them see how unhappy he felt. He really was heartbroken because he had killed the raven.

The Birth of Corn

Wunzh was greatly disturbed and downcast over his defeat because he thought the Great Spirit had sent the Golden Hearted in answer to his supplications, and he now felt certain that he was in disfavor. He lay awake all night thinking what he could do to win a token of good will from the Great Spirit. He knew better than to ask anything for himself, but begged and implored that it should be something for the benefit of his tribe.

"Michabo says I eat too much flesh, and that I must learn to fast before any good will come to me," he said over and over to himself. "He shall see that I know how to obey even if my arrows do go wide of the mark." There was a great lump in his throat and to tell the truth there were a few tears trickling down his cheeks, but he brushed them away quickly as he rose to his feet and shook out the buffalo robes which had answered for his bed.

"I will go to a secret place in the forest and build me a lodge, and there I will stay and fast until the Great Spirit grants my wish."

He told no one of his intention and was gone several days before he was missed at the council fires where the wise men were instructing the medicine men in the use of a wampum belt made of different colored beads. The colors were the same as the Quippos and the counting with them was done in the same manner. While the women were weaving a very handsome wampum belt to be used as a council brand of authority, the wise men helped build a Long House in the center of the confederation of tribes to put it in. Then they ordered four other Long Houses built on the north, east, south and west corners of the country, so that the runners would have some place to stay when they started with the wampum belt to let the outside tribes know the will of the council.

The Golden Hearted did not seem to take any interest in this work at all, but went among the people playing all kinds of pranks. Sometimes he frightened them nearly to death, and then again he would set them into roars of laughter by the funny things he did. He invented so many tricks and was so full of mischief that every one was on the lookout and attributed all the happenings they could not account for in any other way to him whether he did them or not.

"What has become of Wunzh? Has anybody seen him?" began to be constant queries, and his family looked very sad indeed. The Golden Hearted knew where he was and that he was fasting, so he waited until nightfall and then dressed himself in rich garments of green and yellow shading into light and dark tints. Putting on his crown with the long green Quetzal plumes he slipped off into the woods to find Wunzh. Approaching the lodge he said:

"I am sent to you, my friend, by that Great Spirit who made all things in the sky and on the earth. He has seen and known your motives in the fasting. He sees that it is from a kind and benevolent wish to do good to your people and to procure a benefit for them and not for strength in war or the praise of warriors. I come to show you how to do your kindred good, but you must rise and wrestle with me."

Wunzh knew that he was weak from fasting, but felt his courage rising in his heart, and he got up immediately determined to die rather than fail.

He instantly clinched with the Golden Hearted and wrestled with him until nearly exhausted.

"My friend, this is enough for to-day. I will come again to try you to-morrow at the same hour."

The Golden Hearted came dressed in the same fashion and wrestled with Wunzh for three successive evenings. Each day the faster's strength grew less and less, but he was more determined than ever.

"To-morrow will be your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for this is the only way you can overcome me and obtain the boon you seek."

The next day the poor youth exerted his utmost power and after awhile the Golden Hearted ceased wrestling.

"I am conquered," he said, and went into the lodge and began to teach Wunzh. "You have wrestled manfully and have fasted seven days. Now you must strip off my clothing and throw me down. Clean the earth of roots and reeds; make it soft and bury these garments here. When you have done this be careful never to let the grass grow over the spot. Once a month cover it with fresh earth. If you follow these instructions you will do great good to your fellow creatures."

In the morning the father of Wunzh came with some slight refreshments, saying:

"My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit intends to favor you he will do it now. It is seven days since you tasted food and you must not sacrifice your health. That the Master of Life does not require of you."

"Wait, father, until the sun goes down. I have a particular reason for extending my fast until that hour."

"Very well," said the father, kindly. "I will wait until you feel inclined to eat."

Even though he was hungry the young man felt strangely renewed and strengthened and when it was night he was ready to wrestle with the Golden Hearted again. When he thought he had killed the prince he took off his garments and plumes and buried them as he had been told to do. Afterwards he returned to his father's lodge and partook sparingly of food, but he never for a moment forgot the new-made grave.

Because he was so full of pranks and tricks, the descendants of the Mound Builders saw something mysterious and strange in everything the Golden Hearted did, and when he built a boat to go down the great river in, they said it was a magic canoe and expected almost anything to happen. However before he and the wise men went away, they made him the father and guardian of their nation, and they have considered him as such ever since.

Weeks went by and the summer was drawing to a close when Wunzh returned after a long absence in hunting. Going to his father he invited him to come to the quiet lonesome spot where he had fasted so long. There in a circle freed from weeds stood a tall graceful plant with bright colored silken hair surmounted by nodding plumes, luxuriant green leaves and clusters of golden grain on each side.

"It is my friend, and the friend of all mankind. It is Mondamin, the spirit of corn. We need no longer rely on hunting alone for so long as this gift is cherished and taken care of the ground itself will give us a living. See, my father," said Wunzh, pulling off an ear, "this is what I fasted for. This is why Michabo put me through so many trials. But the Great Spirit has listened to my voice and sent us something new. Our people need no longer depend upon the chase and the water for food."

Then he told his father how he had wrestled with the Golden Hearted, and how he had torn off his garments.

"He said I was to treat the ear in the same manner, and when it was stripped I must hold it to the fire until the outer skin becomes brown while all the milk is retained in the grain."

The whole family of Wunzh joined in a feast on the roasted ears, and were very grateful for such a rich blessing. And this is the way the Indians say corn came into the world.

We learned its use from them, and also to hold the old-fashioned husking bees where all the young people got together and pulled off the husks after the ripe ears of corn had been gathered into the barn. It was always great fun, especially when they found red ears, but let us see what the Indians used to say about it:

Then Nokomis, the old woman,
Spake and said to Minnehaha:
"'Tis the moon when leaves are falling
All the wild rice has been gathered
And the maize is ripe and ready;
Let us gather in the harvest,
Let us wrestle with Mondamin,
Strip him of his plumes and tassels,
Of his garments green and yellow."
And the merry Laughing Water
Went rejoicing from the wigwam,
With Nokomis old and wrinkled,
And they called the women round them,
Called the young men and the maidens,
To the harvest of the cornfields,
To the husking of the maize ear.
On the border of the forest,
Underneath the fragrant pine-trees,
Sat the old man and the warriors
Smoking in the pleasant shadow
In uninterrupted silence
Looked they at the gamesome labor
Of the young men and the women;
Listened to their noisy talking,
To their laughter and their singing
Heard them chattering like the magpies,
Heard them laughing like the blue-jays,
Heard them singing like the robins.
And whene'er some lucky maiden
Found a red ear in the husking
Found a maize-ear red as blood is,
"Nuska!" cried they all together,
"Nuska! you shall have a sweetheart,
You shall have a handsome husband!"
"Ugh!" the old men all responded
From their seats behind the pine-trees.
And whene'er a youth or maiden
Found a crooked ear in husking,
Found a maize-ear in the husking
Blighted, mildewed or misshapen,
Then they laughed and sang together,
Crept and limped about the cornfields,
Mimicked in their gait and gestures
Some old man bent almost double,
Singing singly or together
Till the cornfields rang with laughter,
"Ugh!" the old men all responded,
From their seats behind the pine-trees.

The Indians have many pretty stories about the birth of corn. When the two little slender green leaves come up through the ground they say that it is the long green plumes of the crown buried by Wunzh and when it is ready for harvest they think the green and gold of the leaves and grain are the rest of the garments turned into a plant. They say that if you stand near a cornfield in the moonlight you can hear Mondamin, the corn spirit, murmuring and complaining of the way we treat him to the wind, the stars, and the little insects hidden in the glossy leaves and silken tassels.

The Wrathy Chieftain

After sailing down the great river for many days the Golden Hearted and the wise men came into a trackless waste with no means of finding their way out except by watching where the sun rose and shooting an arrow ahead of them. This was very slow work and they all grew quite discouraged over it.

"It is altogether too bad that for fear of getting lost we must halt each time and speed another arrow before we overtake the last one," said the Golden Hearted one day when they were nearly worn out with the heat and dust of a country not much better than a desert. "I have a feeling," he continued, "that we will not be well treated by the people we find here. I do so wish we might come to the cactus and the rock with a serpent at its base where my father commanded me to found a city in honor of the sun."

"We are going in the right direction," answered the wise men, "but the end of our search is not yet."

"And much as my heart yearns for the Happy Island I will not return to my father until all his wishes have been fulfilled."

Through the murky gray clouds the stars did not make much light, and there was only a thin crescent moon, which gave a sense of utter loneliness to the Golden Hearted when he went to bed that night. The coyotes all around him howled and that made it worse, but he finally fell asleep. By and by he was awakened by a cold, wet nose touching his hand, and when he raised up on his elbow to see what it was, there stood a coyote. They are not very dangerous animals but they are sneaking and treacherous. Now we know that the Golden Hearted was gentle and kind to all creatures, and the coyote must have known it too, for it rubbed its head on his hand and did not seem in the least afraid.

"Come, my good fellow, let us be friends," said the Golden Hearted. "I will not hurt you, and you can guide me to my brethren. I have never seen their faces, but wish very much to find them."

The coyote wrinkled up his nose and made a funny little sneezing sound as if he were talking, and he wagged his tail as friendly as a dog. Maybe he did not understand what was said to him, but anyhow he felt safe enough to lie down close to his new friend and go sound asleep. When the wise men saw him the next morning, they said:

"It is a good omen and means that we shall soon come to a stopping place where strange events will happen."

This put the Golden Hearted into a better humor because he felt less doubtful and discouraged and he was much interested in the antics of the sagacious little companion that trudged by his side all day long. The coyote was enterprising enough to kill as many birds as it needed for food, without going far out of the way and was not a whit of trouble to anybody. There was not a tree nor a shrub to hide the nakedness of the dusty plains, nor was it possible to rest with any comfort until after the sun went down.

All of a sudden the coyote stopped short, pricked up its ears and listened intently.

"Yelp! yelp! yelp!" was what the Golden Hearted heard, and it sounded as if there were hundreds of young puppies everywhere. Looking closely he discovered little heaps of earth with a smooth-headed animal sitting on all fours beside it and yelping a protest to being disturbed. They were right in the midst of a village of prairie dogs, which are about the size of a jack-rabbit, but not nearly so destructive.

"Come and see what I have found," called out the Golden Hearted to the wise men who were coming up behind him. At the sound of his voice the prairie dogs gave a quick, short yelp, their heels twinkled in the air for a second, and they fairly turned a somersault diving into their holes. By the time the wise men were ready to look there was not a whisker of an inhabitant to be seen.

"What is it?" they said, "Where! we do not see anything."

"Watch these fresh piles of dirt, and you will see something come out of them," said the Golden Hearted.

"Yes;" said one, "there are some rattlesnakes."

"And here are some owls," said another. "Is it possible that you have never seen these creatures before?" and the wise men laughed at the Golden Hearted and thought they had a good joke on him.

"Let us keep quiet for a while. I tell you there is something else in those burrows besides snakes and owls," he insisted seriously.

Not hearing any more noise, one after another of the little prairie dogs put its head up out of the hole, and then stole forth cautiously to talk the matter over with its next door neighbor. There were regular beaten pathways or lanes from one burrow to another and they were evidently on very friendly footing with each other.

"These are indeed curious little animals," said the wise men, now much interested. "They not only live in communities, but keep the peace with their brothers, the snake and the owl. There is certainly no greater source of knowledge than the book of nature. Here God puts before us the thing He wishes us to learn."

At the very first words of the wise men the prairie dogs scampered back into their holes; and before they showed themselves again a party of husbandmen came along on their way to a harvest field which they said was a day's journey ahead.

"Why do you linger in this desert?" they asked of the Golden Hearted. "There are habitations farther on where the earth is watered."

"We are seeking those who need our assistance and must only tarry where we are welcome," he answered.

"Then come to our commune. We have no one to show us how to heal the sick nor to coax fertility out of this barren soil," they said. "If you will go, we will remain for the night and lead the way."

So it was arranged and to everybody's comfort and joy it began to rain shortly after and then the air was much more cool and pleasant.

The little prairie dogs were not so well pleased with this arrangement. They stuck their noses up into the moist air and whined and yelped half of the night. There can be no doubt that they were holding an indignation meeting, and were having a noisy and windy debate. May be they were comparing notes about the tall hats and veils of the wise men, or they may not have thought their long beards becoming. Or who shall say that they were not in their own peculiar fashion devising plans for safety, and to vindicate their offended dignity? They may have objected seriously to having strange men intruding upon their privacy, and it must not be considered a reflection on their courage because they scampered out of sight at the sound of a human voice. It was quite enough to frighten inoffensive little animals like these.

It is said that Katzimo, the enchanted Mesa, was the first stopping-place of the Golden Hearted, and it is certain that the wise men taught the husbandmen in that part of the world how to make irrigating ditches and canals all through their inhospitable country, because there are many remains of these waterways still to be seen. Some say, too, that these people got the idea of living in pueblos or villages from studying the habits of the prairie dogs and to this day the coyote is thought to be a good friend by the descendants of these ancient husbandmen.

"The hunters are angry with you for teaching the tillers of the soil how to make the land fertile without making it easier for the men of the chase to get food for themselves and families," said an old woman to the Golden Hearted, one day as he stood watching her make a water jar of clay. She would not have spoken had he not shown her how to make a pretty design and also how to ornament it differently from anything she had seen before.

"I am willing to teach them to weave blankets and baskets," he replied. "The Good Law spares the life of every creature and forbids our eating its flesh for food. The hunters should give up the chase and fighting."

"They say that only women should do these things," said the old pottery maker, "and they disdain to carry the rocks and mud to make our dwellings."

"In this they are wrong," said the Golden Hearted, kindly, as he turned to greet some of the wise men. "We must hasten our task for already is discontent showing itself among the tribes," he said to them.

"We must kindle the sacred fires and build the temple at once," they said. "We have heard murmurings and complaints of late and know your words are true."

As soon as possible they began the work of construction of what is now known as the Casa Grande long since in ruins, of which we shall hear more in the story of the Kingdom of Quivera. The wise men kindled and guarded the sacred fires, and when leaving appointed warriors to take turns in watching them.

"You must serve for two successive days and live during that time without food, drink or sleep," they said, and that mandate has been kept to this day. In the meantime the Golden Hearted busied himself with teaching them the use of herbs and plants for medicine and had them go into estufas or sweat houses when they were ill or wished to purify themselves of a sin or fault.

Tradition says that the hunters lured the Golden Hearted away from his comrades and tried to kill him, and that they threw the wise men over the edge of the cliff, but it has been so long ago that no one can remember what it was they did that wounded and hurt him. One day he planted a tree upside down and calling all the people about him said:

"Many, many years from now a strange nation will oppress you, and there will be no more rain. I charge you to guard the sacred fires well until the tree I have planted falls. Then I will come back and bring a white race that will overcome your enemies. After that the rain will fall, and the earth will be fertile again."

The simple, frugal husbandmen and weavers are still looking for his return and they believe he will descend from the sky by the columns of smoke they guard. It has been so long ago that they think he lives in the sun now, and build their houses with an opening to the east which is never closed.

"We do this that he may find a welcome when he comes," they say.

Once every fifty years they put out all the sacred fires and go up on the high mountain tops just before dawn, and wail and mourn and break pottery, imploring the shining orb to bring back him

"Who dwelt up in the yellow sun
And sorrowing for man's despair
Slid by his trailing yellow hair
To earth to rule, by love and bring
The blessedness of peace."

The Plumed Serpent, Quetzalcoatl

Far as the eye could reach stretched the beautiful valley of Anahuac, where the air was sweet with the breath of flowers, and the earth seemed to melt perfectly into the sky.

"Oh! that mine eyes should see the splendor of this vision," said Mexi, the oldest of the wise men and the most learned, clasping his hands in rapture. "Oh! that I have been spared to see the fruition of thy will, great king and brother. Now may I go hence in peace."

As he ceased speaking he tottered and would have fallen had not one of the tamanes or porters, seated on mats under the shade of a giant oak, hastily risen, and caught him as his head fell forward on his bosom.

"The elements have undone thee," cried the Golden Hearted, kneeling hurriedly by his side and supporting the drooping head on his knee. "Thou art sadly in need of rest," he continued, alarmed at the pallor overspreading Mexi's finely wrinkled face.

The old man pushed the thin white locks of hair off his forehead, let the mantle slip back from his throat, and seemed to breathe easier.

"I am come to my final rest," he replied with a feeble smile. "It is not given me to enter the promised land."

The tawny, broad-shouldered, half-clad tamanes, laid down the thin cakes of ground corn they were eating and came near to the stricken old man, while the other wise men took off their hats and listened with bowed heads to what their comrade and leader said. They had stopped to rest and refresh themselves with food under the cool inviting shade of the trees where they could listen to the murmur of waterfalls, and feast, the eyes on the landscape surrounding them.

"There!" said Mexi, attracted by the buzzing of tiny wings, "is the green-throated humming-bird thou wert to follow as thy guide to the spot where a city is to be built in honor of the sun."

The Golden Hearted held up his hand with the forefinger extended and in a moment the little humming-bird lighted on it and looked at him curiously, as though obeying the will of some one. He did not touch it nor attempt to move for a few moments. Then he said:

"Little brother, spend the remainder of thy days with me. I need thee sorely, and have long waited for thy guidance."

In the meantime the wise men had given Mexi a cup of chocolate, not in a thin liquid like we know it, but thick like a cold custard, and with whipped goat's cream on top.

"Thou art kind," he said growing weaker and more faint all the time, "to try to prolong a life already spent." Turning his eyes toward the Golden Hearted he continued: "Lying next my heart thou wilt find a bundle of mystery. Carry it without opening until the time of thy departure from this strange land is at hand. Open then and thou wilt find directions for thy special work."

He did not speak again and when they tried to rouse him there was a smile of infinite peace on his face, but nothing save the lifeless body was before them. The gentle, sweet spirit of the old man had gone back to God.

"We will neither weep nor mourn for him," said the wise men to the Golden Hearted. "It would not be his wish, and we will show our love by obeying him."

And so they left him sleeping in a dell of ferns and mosses, in sight of Anahuac, the land by the side of water, as its name indicates, and continued their journey southward.

On the way the wise men found a little creature, looking like a black currant with neither head, legs nor tail, so far as they could see. It is fat and dark and round, but if you squeeze him his blood is a brighter color than currant juice, and much more valuable because we get cochineal red of one, and currant jelly from the other. It was in the valley of Anahuac that the cochineal bug was first found, and it lives on the leaves of the prickly pear, or tuna cactus--the common kind with leaves shaped like a ham, and covered with long sharp needles.

The young cochineal bugs are so stupid that they must be tied on the leaves of the prickly pear to keep them from falling off and starving. In this way, too, they keep dry and warm in winter, but as soon as they are grown they are ruthlessly shaken to death and dried in the sun. Then the queer, shriveled dead bugs are put up in bags and sold.

"In the hot lands far to the south, the woods are full of rare orchids and other gems of the flower kingdom," said the Golden Hearted one day after a search for plants by the wayside, "but the vanilla bean is the only one fit for food. It will be well worth our while to study this strange branch of husbandry as soon as possible."

It was a long time before they came to a place near the seashore where a number of women were picking the ripe pods from vanilla vines which overran the trees and shrubs completely. The younger women had on bright-colored petticoats and gay scarfs over their long black hair, and they were storing the bean pods in wide-mouthed baskets strapped across their foreheads.

"What next do you do with these pods?" he asked of a young girl passing him with a full basket.

"We carefully assort them and then plunge the packages into hot water, before laying them out on mats to drain. For a week the beans are exposed to the heat of the sun, laid between woolen blankets. After this we pack them in ollas and keep them warm so as to promote fermentation while drying. This makes them soft, pliable, free from moisture, and of a dark chocolate color thickly frosted with needle-like crystals of acid."

And to this day if you buy vanilla beans they come in packages wrapped in silver foil, and have a delicious odor.

The bean is from six to nine inches long, and must be ground fine before it can be used in making the chocolate we are all so fond of, but it is dried and packed in the same manner as that described to the Golden Hearted.

It was not many days after leaving the wooded plains, that the travelers came in sight of four beautiful lakes with the frowning cliffs of Chapultepec outlined against the sky. Always on the alert for a sign the wise men said to each other in awe-stricken whispers:

"We must be near the place."

"Do you not see the rock with the flowering cactus!"

"And an eagle circling in the air with a serpent in its claws!"

"Oh! thou seen and unseen powers! search our hearts that thou mayst know all our gratitude," cried the Golden Hearted, falling on his knees and then prostrating himself on the ground, as did all the wise men.

"I am Guatamo," said a voice, and when the Golden Hearted looked up, a man old as Mexi stood blessing him. "Rise and receive word from thy father, the king from whom I am come. Fear me not; these hands have guided thy baby footsteps. Now must thou lend ear to my counsel."

The Golden Hearted was overjoyed to see some one from his father's court, and also glad to know that his wanderings in search of the place to honor the sun was over.

"This is not a promising outlook," said Guatamo, "but in the parchment scroll thou wilt find ample instructions to drain and render this a garden spot of exceeding loveliness. Hasten thy task since thy father is no longer living, and thy native land longs to see thee again."

Acting upon this advice the Golden Hearted and the wise men set to work at once to build the city, and to teach the willing natives to cultivate the land, and to make handsome mosaics out of the bright-colored feathers of the birds found in the forests in such numbers. Of course the birds were not killed to get their feathers, but in the royal gardens there were thousands of them kept during the moulting season, and then the feathers were picked up and assorted for use. Not only could they make perfect representations of birds and animals with them, but whole landscape scenes, including mountains, sea and sky. When finished it was necessary to touch them to know that feathers instead of paint had been used.

"The Nahuas have come from Aztlan, the white country, and must be obeyed," was the word carried from one tribe to the other by the runners, and the wise men could only smile when they heard themselves called Nahuas, or wizards. The simple natives thought them capable of performing miracles because they were wise in the arts and knew how to heal the sick. The name of the Golden Hearted became Quetzalcoatl, the plumed serpent in their language, but we must remember that he wore the Quetzal plumes in his head-dress, the same as a king wears a gold and jeweled crown, and that a serpent in many of the languages of the ancient people meant a very wise man. In English we would say that the Golden Hearted was the wise king, which was not only true but a very simple name for him. The wonderful city he built was called Tenochtitlan, which signified "in honor of the sun," as his father had commanded him to do, and on the spot where it stood is the City of Mexico to-day. We shall hear very interesting things about the teocalli, or temple he built in Tenochtitlan, when we come to the story of "Montezuma and the Paba," for this is one of the most famous places in the new world, and no one can afford to be ignorant of its traditions and history.

Cholula, the Sacred City

It was in the Tonituah, or great sun age, that the wise men and the Golden Hearted built the Memento for Generations, on the plains of Puebla. It is not so high, but is twice as long as any other pyramid in the world, and is truncated, that is to say, it has four terraces which are reached by long circular staircases. On top there is an acre of ground on which once stood a wonderful teocalli or temple, built by the wise men, and dedicated to the Golden Hearted. Each generation added something to the beauties of the Sacred City, Cholula, which sprang up near the pyramid, and for all time it will be one of the most wonderful things ever done by primitive men, who did not have our kind of implements to work with.

The Golden Hearted lived in Cholula twenty years, and during that time he taught so many men how to make fine filigree work in gold and silver that there were whole streets filled with them, and the ornaments they made were famous for delicacy of design and finish.

There was also a mountain of outcry, where the laws enacted by him were proclaimed by runners, but it is difficult to say whether this was Orizaba, with her conical snow-capped head far to the east, or whether it was huge Popocatepetl, or his twin sister who stood like colossal sentinels to guard the enchanted regions.

"It is necessary to construct a calendar stone, so that the people will know when to hold festivals, and what ceremonies to perform," said the son of Guatamo to the Golden Hearted, one day while the long line of men were passing bricks by hand from the lower to the upper terrace of the pyramid which they were trying to finish.

"I have been thinking about it," he replied, "and have decided to ask a certain old woman, and her husband, to help select the signs."

"Be sure to make them plain to the people and appropriate to the subject," said the son of Guatamo, who had now become the chief adviser of the Golden Hearted. All of the wise men were still called Nahuas, or wizards, and the Golden Hearted was their plumed serpent, or wise king.

In the evening of that day, the Golden Hearted approached the hut of a famous soothsayer and story-teller--the old woman he wished to consult about the calendar. Standing in front of the door of the hut he said:

"A humble applicant claims thy assistance in a matter of great import to thy fellows now and for all time. Wilt thou kindly hear me?"

"Since it is always for thy brothers and never for thyself thou art constrained to invoke aid, I am honored by thy confidence," she said. "I have long been expecting thee."

"Then thou knowest that I wish to invent a calendar which can be cut in enduring stone?" he asked, considerably surprised that she should already know his thoughts.

"Yes," she said, "and so well do I understand thy wishes and needs that I have the first sign ready for thee." Motioning him to follow her into an inner room, she showed him a water-snake she had painted on a piece of parchment, and continued:

"Make it the sign of the serpent, the symbol of wisdom, since thou art come to teach brotherhood to all our tribes."

A queer hunchbacked old man sat huddled up in a corner looking over a set of parchment leaves lying on a table before him, and muttering to himself in a low tone.

"My husband must make the next selection," said the old crone, going up to him and taking a paper out of his hands. "He makes it two cones," she continued, examining the design closely.

"Now it is my turn to choose," said the Golden Hearted, "and I will select the three houses from this pile, and make that the third sign."

They took turns about until twelve signs were chosen, then the Golden Hearted said:

"I will make the last design myself, but not until my time of departure is at hand."

"Before going, do not forget to inscribe the face of the pyramid, and also to explain its import fully," said the story-teller as the Golden Hearted was leaving her hut.

"Thou art better able than I am to tell the hidden significance of that wonderful pile," he answered.

"But it is thy duty; shirk it not," she said with decision.

Not long afterward he called all the workmen and their families together and said:

"There has now come a time in my life when I must live in seclusion away from the thoughts and occupations of my associates. But before going up on top of the pyramid to live alone until the altars in its temples are ready to receive the sacred fire, I will tell you why we have tarried so long and made such a wonderful structure. It is really a pillar of the Cosmos, or world, and is a center of fire which is the essence of all life."

The name pyramid means a place of fire or a volcano, and the Goddess Pele, of the native Hawaiians, is the spirit of the volcano.

"A pyramid," continued the Golden Hearted, "is the ideal form of the principle of stability because it cannot be destroyed. An earthquake will not shake it down, nor can it be set on fire. Being so big at the bottom and so heavy it is secure from floods of water, nor can the wind possibly blow it over. Neither time nor the elements will have any influence on this cunningly constructed pile, and for this reason it is like a noble character, which no adverse circumstance ever changes."

Approaching the front of the pyramid, he pulled down a cloth hanging over the inscription cut in symbols on the face of a huge piece of granite.

BEFORE THE LIGHT WAS OBSCURED THIS MEMENTO FOR GENERATIONS
WAS BUILT BY SERPENT KINGS. THEY WERE SCATTERED OVER THE
EARTH TO CARRY TRUTH AND WISDOM. THEY WILL COME AGAIN TO
RECEIVE THE TREASURES HIDDEN IN MY BOWELS. THEN ALL MEN
WILL SPEAK AND HEAR THE GREAT IMPERISHABLE TRUTH.

The next morning the Golden Hearted called his little band of wise men around him and said:

"In the Bundle of Wonderful Things given me by Guatamo, I find my father's final command. It imposes seclusion upon me in this spot. The temple requires a central spire and I shall build and cover it with pure gold. Go thou to the valley and make thy life apart from me. I love thee well, and shall miss thee sadly, but I have need to be alone."

"What wilt thou have us do?" asked the son of Guatamo.

"Go thou amongst thy fellows and teach them the arts of peace. Show them how to coax fertility anew out of the soil, and strengthen civil power until I call thee."

It was several months before the spire was finished, and then it required several days to make a llama of beaten silver as an emblem of suffering innocence to put on the altar. The llama seated upon the back of an eagle was rescuing a rabbit from the fangs of a rattlesnake.

"This quaint symbol shall represent the unequal conflict between the good and bad things in life, but the llama compelling the serpent to give up its prey means that good shall finally triumph," said the Golden Hearted, to himself, as he put the offering in place on the altar.

"I have only a few days more in this beautiful spot, then must I return to good King Cocomos, my life-long friend and follower. Well indeed has he kept his promise to me, and not only are his subjects blessed with all the arts of civilization, but they are a shining example to other less favored races. I must offer a fitting sacrifice," he continued, "on this newly erected altar before I go."

There were eight altars in the temple on top of the pyramid, and at sunset on the last day of his stay, the Golden Hearted placed the llama on the one facing the east. At the same time the son of Guatamo headed a procession of wise men at the base of the pyramid, who slowly climbed to the top. They performed sacrifice on each terrace as they ascended, and did not reach the temple until midnight.

The Golden Hearted was alone in the great dark structure intently watching the constellation of the Pleiades directly overhead. As Alcyone, the dim star in the center of the group, approached the zenith, he sprang forward with a glad cry and vigorously swinging a copper hammer made the sparks fly from a piece of flint. The son of venerable Guatamo held the bit of cotton over it and carefully nursed the fire into a blaze. As the light streamed up toward the heavens shouts of joy and triumph burst forth:

"Once more the children of men receive a direct ray from the spiritual sun! Awake! awake! and hear the glad tidings!"

Runners with torches lighted at the blazing beacon sped in every direction carrying the cheering element to all parts of the country. Long before sunrise it was brightening the altars and hearthstones in every house. The Golden Hearted prayed before the eastern altar, and then took an affectionate farewell of the young priest of the Order of Quetzalcoatl left in charge, but before descending, he gazed long at the matchless scenery below. Soft spring verdure lay on all sides, and he drew courage and inspiration from that fact. At the foot of the pyramid he said:

"Be of good cheer. A long era of peace and prosperity is for thee and thine. Let this knowledge be thy secret refuge lest thou be tempted to depart from the way. Grieve not for me, in the fullness of time I will come again."

Then he set out for the Kingdom of Tlapalla, accompanied by four youths of noble birth. At the water's edge he took leave of them saying:

"Guard well the temple and the sacred fires, for when I come again, I will bring disciples with me who shall possess and rule the land."

When the four youths returned to Cholula and told all their master had said to them, the people divided their province into four principalities and gave the government to the four young nobles. Ever after, four of the descendants of these youths continued to rule as priests of the Order of Quetzalcoatl in the sacred city until the Spaniards came, which we will know all about when we read the story of "El Dorado, the Golden."

One of the first things done by the noble youths when they became rulers was to make a statue of the Golden Hearted in a reclining position, because they said that he had gone to sleep in the bosom of the sun. When the wind blew they said he was sweeping the roads, and that he was the god of fertility. Not any place else in the new world was there so much reverence and respect paid to a statue as to this one of the Golden Hearted which was for ages kept in the temple he built on the top of the pyramid. For hundreds of miles around people came to do reverence to it, and even if it did have a black face, the ancient Aztecs always called him their "Fair God." And to this day the calendar stone and many other wonderful things in Mexico are said to have been made by him.

Tulla, the Hiding Nook of the Snake

No doubt you remember that the wise men built a Dark House in Nachan to hold the National Book, and such other treasures as the Golden Hearted did not wish to carry with him. And you also remember that he left a number of wise men in charge, and that he promised to return. The great pyramid at Cholula was not all finished, but it was far enough along so he could leave the son of Guatamo to go on with the work while he paid a visit to his old friends in Nachan.

When he arrived there, he found a splendid city having whole houses of silver, others of turquoise, some of white and red shells and some of rich feathers. Cotton grew there in all colors, so it was not necessary to dye it, and the people were rich and prosperous. A great and mighty king ruled them, but he finally grew jealous because the people seemed to think that all their good fortune came from obeying the commands given them by the Golden Hearted when he visited them as a mere youth.

They did everything in their power to honor the good prince. When he promulgated a new law, they ran to the mountain tops and proclaimed it in a loud voice, and then the swift-footed couriers dashed through the country with lighted torches and repeated it to every one they met. One day a young man came to him and said:

"Good prince, be on your guard. The king no longer loves you."

"Why do you say this to me?" asked the Golden Hearted.

"Because I know he plots to injure you. He is angry because you are helping the wise men build Tulla. He calls it the Hiding Nook of the Snake to show contempt for you."

"Again I ask why do you say such things to me?" There was so much reproach in the tones of the voice of the Golden Hearted that the young man hung his head and stammered:

"Forgive me, but I wanted you to know there is danger for you here, and I am ready to serve you faithfully."

The Golden Hearted made no reply, but taking a thoroughly-dried cactus needle from a shelf, stuck it through his ears and was beginning to pierce his tongue when the young man sprang forward and caught his hand.

"Why, good prince," he cried in a startled voice, "do you maltreat your poor ears and tongue? It is I who have spoken evil, not you."

"But I listened, and that is an offense against the Good Law. Do you think I will not punish myself for disobedience?"

"Oh," said the young man, with tears streaming down his face, "the sight of blood makes my heart ache, and I, too, will be punished." And with that he stuck cactus needles through his ears and tongue.

"My friend," said the Golden Hearted, "I thank you for your kind thought of me, but I must beautify Tulla even if it does displease the king, and he is right in calling it the Hiding Nook of the Snake, because it will be a treasure-house of the wisdom inherited from the philosophers and wise men of your race. You should always bear in mind that a serpent is a symbol of wisdom, and not a thing to despise. The king compliments me, even though he knows it not."

The young man went out of the room with the thorns still sticking in his ears, and when he spat blood, his companions said:

"Why does your mouth bleed?" and he answered:

"Because I have been speaking evil of some one."

"Open your mouth and let us see," they said.

"It is only needful to examine the tongue. I have pierced it with the sharp needle of the cactus."

"Who gave you leave to do such a thing?"

"No one," he answered, "but when the Good Prince inflicted that penalty on himself for merely hearing what I said, I could do no less than follow his example."

"And we will do likewise," they said, and in after years, every devotee of the teachings of the Golden Hearted punished himself in this manner for evil speaking or listening to others saying unkind things of a fellow creature.