Chapter IV: Part 4

Of course we know that the king really was jealous of the Golden Hearted, and was determined that he should not stay long in Tulla, which bade fair to rival his own city with which it was connected by the secret passageway containing the Dark House. During the years of his absence, the wise men left in Nachan had been at work on this wonderful city, and it was very beautiful indeed, even before the Golden Hearted saw it at all. When he came the inhabitants received him with great rejoicing, and then the king of Nachan began to be afraid that he would have too great a following.

The king had no excuse to fight the Golden Hearted, because he always put his fingers in his ears when they talked of war in his presence, and under no circumstances would he have been made king himself. He only wanted to teach and help the people in a peaceable and kind way.

The king knew all this, but he was uneasy and wanted the Golden Hearted to go away. So he hired a native wizard to play a cunning trick upon the Golden Hearted. Disguising himself as one of the wise men, the wizard went to his house and said to his servant:

"I wish to see and speak to your master."

"Go away, old man, you cannot see the prince for he is sick. You will annoy him and cause him heaviness."

"But I must see him," persisted the pretended old man.

"Wait a moment and I will ask him," said the servant, and he went and told the Golden Hearted that a strange old man was determined to see him.

"Let him come in," said the sick man.

Tottering up to the bedside as if he were very feeble, the intruder said with well-feigned sympathy:

"How are you, my lord? Here is a medicine I have brought for you."

"You are welcome; I have been expecting you for many days," and the Golden Hearted held out his hand in a friendly manner.

"How is your body, and how is your health?" again asked the visitor, seating himself by the bedside.

"I am exceedingly sick. All my body is in pain, and I cannot move my hands nor my feet."

"The medicine I have is good and wholesome. If you will drink it you will be healed and eased at heart." As he said this, the wizard held up a small silver cup and put a white powder in it. "Drink this and you will then have in mind the toils and fatigues of death, and of your departure."

"Where have I to go?" cried his listener in surprise.

"To Tlapalla (which was their name for the Happy Island), where The Old Man of the Sea is waiting for you. He has much to tell you, and when you return you will be young and handsome. Indeed you will be a mere boy again." Seeing that the Golden Hearted merely stared at him, he said: "Sir, drink this medicine."

But the sick man did not wish to do so.

"Drink, my lord, or you will be sorry for it hereafter," urged the wizard.

"No, no; I will not drink it."

"At least rub some on your brow and taste a sip." So the Golden Hearted drank a little to try it, saying:

"What is this? It seems to be a thing very good and savory. Already I feel myself healed. I am well."

"Drink some more, my lord, since it is good. The more you drink, the better you will feel."

The sick man swallowed considerable more and then he was drunk. It was not medicine at all that the wizard gave him, but a white wine made from the maguey plant and the powder he put in it was to make the Golden Hearted believe that he must go away.

For days after he was very sad and wept continuously, but he began to get ready to leave Tulla. No matter what was said to dissuade him, he could never get rid of the idea that he must take all of his followers and go as quickly as possible.

The wise men, seeing that he was determined, gathered up all the picture writings they had made as a record of their journeys, and putting them into an ark, carried it swung on a pole with them. Before leaving, they called the people together and said:

"Know that the Golden Hearted commands you to remain here in these lands of which he makes you master and gives you possession. He goes to the place whence he and we came, but he will return to visit you when it shall be time for the world to come to an end. You must await him in these lands, possessing them and all contained in them since for this purpose came we hither. Remain, therefore, for we go with the Golden Hearted."

The Departure of the Golden Hearted

The poisoned wine worked in the brain of the Golden Hearted and caused him to do many singular things. For instance he burned all the beautiful houses built for him by the wise men and ordered much of his treasure to be buried in the mountains and ravines. When he left Tulla, he took all the bright-plumaged singing birds with him, and would only allow nineteen of the wise men to go with him.

Two of these knew all about fishing, and two knew about farming, and one was a weather prophet who studied the clouds and winds, and could foretell storms, while all the rest were priests who kindled the sacred fires and taught the people the Good Law.

As soon as the King of Tulla found he was leaving, he took an army and followed after him, laying the country waste and taking captive as many of the people as he could find.

"Good prince, why do you not let us make war upon your and our enemy?" the warriors often asked him, but he always put his fingers in his ears and replied sadly:

"You do not understand the Good Law, my friend. The only way to overcome hate is with love. It is fully time for me to return to Tlapalla."

He traveled on until he came to a place where there was a great tree, high and very thick. Here he sat down to rest.

"Bring me a mirror," he said to his servant, and when he saw his face reflected in it, he cried out:

"Take it away. I am already old." Then the wise men knew that the drug in the wine was making him mad again and they did not try to hinder him when he began throwing stones at the tree.

"I will make these stones stick into your bark until you look like a porcupine and the wind cannot blow them out," he said, and for a long, long time, the tree was pointed out to travelers as being enchanted, because the god of wind had hurled his wrathful breath upon it. From all accounts the tree was full of sharp rocks from top to bottom and must have looked very queer indeed.

The flute players tried to divert his attention as they marched along the wood, but he was very weary and finally sat down to rest on a stone by the roadside.

"O, Thou of infinite mercy and compassion, dry the hot tears that flood and burn my face," he said brokenly as he looked toward Tulla. People now say that his tears marked and ate into the stone, and that the print of his hands is still to be found on it.

After he had reached a very wide river and had commanded his followers to help build a bridge across it, he was met by some men who tried to stop him.

"Where are you going?" they asked, "and why do you leave your city? To whose care will you commend it, and who will do penance in it?" The Golden Hearted answered them firmly:

"You can in no wise hinder me, for I must go."

"But where are you going?" they insisted.

"To Tlapalla," he answered.

"For what purpose are you going?"

"The sun calls me," he said.

"Go then," they replied, "but leave behind all the mechanical arts, the melting of silver, the working of precious stones and of masonry, picture writing, feather work and other crafts." And then they would have robbed him, but he threw all his rich jewels into a fountain. Among his tormentors was the pretended old wizard who tried to induce him to drink more wine.

"No, I can not drink it. I can not even taste it again," he said, and that night in his sleep he turned his head from side to side and tore his hair with his hands.

The next morning in passing between a volcano and the snowy mountain tops, all his servants being hunchbacked, died of cold, and he had no way to get down the steep mountain side except to slide in a squatting position with his feet close together.

In one place he stopped and built a square stone court for ball play, and taught the people how to play the game. Now it is said that he drew a line through the center of the court, and that made the deep gash in the mountains still to be seen.

In another place he threw a dart at a tree and pierced it in such a manner that it looked like a cross, and after that a cross was called "The Tree of Our Life," in memory of this event. Some say that he built houses with certain underground passageways where he hid picture writing and records of his teachings, and just before arriving at the water's edge, he set up and balanced a great stone so that it could be moved with one's little finger, but a whole multitude could not displace it.

No doubt you remember the village chief where the Golden Hearted went when he first arrived from the Happy Island, and also that he sent this chief a cross with a hand in the center. Now that he was going home again, the Golden Hearted thought he would visit the chief and see how he and his people were progressing.

Imagine his surprise in finding that they had dedicated a temple to him, and that in the middle of the square tower was a terra cotta statue of himself dressed as a warrior holding an arrow in his hand, and because the statue was hollow they thought it was an oracle. His name in their language was Cukulcan, but the common people called him "The Working Hand," and had great respect for a huge stone cross erected in the turreted courtyard in front of the temple, which had a big red hand in the center.

When the Golden Hearted went among the people, he found that they remembered everything he had told them, and that on the anniversary of his coming great crowds of people came on a pilgrimage to the oracle statue in the temple. It did no good for him to tell them that he was simply an elder brother and teacher come to give them aid in a simple, kindly way. They believed he was sent by God, and for ages after the people made pilgrimages to this shrine, and held it in very great esteem.

Realizing that it was time for him to go down to the sea coast among the fishermen he had first seen, he went to the temple service one morning, and after praying before the altar, picked up a sacred Tunkel and sang them a prophetic song of farewell:

"Ye men of Itza hearken to the tidings
Listen to the forecast of this cycle's end,
Four have been the ages of the world's progressing
Now the fourth is ending and its end is near,
A mighty lord is coming, see you give him honor,
A potent lord approaches to whom all must bow
I, the prophet, warn you, keep in mind my boding,
Men of Itza mark it, and await your lord."

"Waste not your time in idle repining," he said in farewell, "I go for purification, but will surely come again."

He only spent time enough on the seashore to build and provision a balsa, or boat with sails, and then he said "good bye" to the fisherfolk, and sailed away toward the east with a few of the wise men for companions. Just before he stepped into the boat he turned to the wise men, who were to remain and said:

"It wrings my heart to part from you, but there is need for you to stay here in order to complete the tasks already begun." As he embraced and kissed each one on the cheek he named their special duty, and had no fear that his orders would not be fully carried out.

"You must go to the son of Guatamo, and tell him my work is finished."

To another he said:

"You must go about and teach in my stead. I will come again, but at another time."

It was difficult for him to persuade the fisherman not to accompany him.

"Have no fear. Mine is a staunch bark capable of riding the storm and stress of the angry sea. Farewell, beloved, I will return to you, when the time and seasons are propitious."

The people on shore turned again and again to throw kisses to him, while the fishermen in their little boats put out to sea with him, and strained their vision to catch a last glimpse of his flower-laden balsa.

The wise men and priests in the temples where-ever he had been, began at once to guard the sacred fires and to watch and pray for his safe return. Lest they should forget his sayings they engraved them on stone, and taught them to the people so that his name was a household word for generations. His was the only civilization known in the Americas before the advent of the white men.

El Dorado, the Golden

We have read somewhere that "in 1492 Columbus sailed the waters blue," and we know that the big Exposition held in Chicago in 1893 was to commemorate the four hundredth anniversary of the discovery of America, but no one can possibly tell how long it was after the Golden Hearted sailed away, until Columbus came.

And nobody knows where the Golden Hearted went.

He said he was going to Tlapalla, which we know meant the Happy Island, but no one can find it any more, and there are traditions which say that the island, with all its inhabitants, sank in the ocean. This may be why the Golden Hearted never came back again. Of course the wise men and the primitive people in the Americas believed that he would return because he said he would, and they watched and waited all the long years from one generation to another. Many times bright and promising young men, just out of the universities, or fresh from victories on the battle fields, would take the vows of a priest, and give up all their hopes and ambitions to serve in the temples erected in honor of the Golden Hearted. They did not know anything more about him than we do, but they had faith in him.

They said:

"All the good we know comes from him, and when he returns all wrongs will be righted and every heart made to rejoice. He will give us everything we wish for."

Several times during the year whole nations would fast and do severe penance to induce him to come quickly. Not one of them could be made to believe that he was dead.

"No, no," they said, "he is asleep in the bosom of the sun. He will surely come again; he promised us he would."

Then they would get the idea that he was offended, and the kings would order great sacrifice to be made to appease him. In some places I am sorry to say they offered the quivering, bleeding hearts of human beings by the hundreds, but still he did not come. In other places they remembered his gentleness and only laid fruit, flowers and perfumes on the sacred fire altars which they still kept burning. There were many places where they carefully preserved his sayings by cutting them in sign language on the stones of the temples, and every child was taught to imitate his virtues and follow his example.

For several years before Columbus arrived the priests and wise men had been prophesying that the Golden Hearted was soon to return, that the sun was bringing him back, accompanied by companions like himself, who would rule over them. Not even the great-great-grandfathers of the men then living had seen the Golden Hearted, so they did not know how he looked, but their traditions said that he was a bearded white man, and we shall see by and by what a curious mistake this led them to make about the first white men who came to them after the discovery of America.

Before we can understand how such things could happen, we must remember that the people in Europe did not know there was an America, and that many of them had very queer ideas about the shape of the earth. Some said it was four-cornered and square like a dry goods box, and others thought it was round and flat like a plate, surrounded by water which finally changed into vapor and mist, and that whoever ventured far out into the misty clouds fell through and went--heaven knows where!

In the quaint old Italian city of Genoa was born a little boy named Christopher Columbus, who was to change all this, and be the innocent cause of much suffering to the descendants of the races who had been visited by the Golden Hearted. When a mere lad at school, he was greatly interested in boats, and he not only studied geography and history, but read all the books of travel he could find, and dreamed night and day of a great long voyage he was going to make on the ocean some time. He did not waste his time fishing and playing on the beach like other boys, but picked up the chips that washed ashore and examined them very carefully, because he believed that if there was an unknown land some where in the west, that the waves would bring something ashore from there. He was really quite an old man before he found anything, but one day he picked up some strange chips at Cadiz that had been cut by hand, and then he knew he was right.

Sailors always do have wonderful tales to tell about the sea, and in those days they were so superstitious that they were sure that there were huge monsters living in the distant waters just waiting to eat up any sailor foolish enough to venture near them. There was not one of them willing to listen to Columbus, when he tried to explain that the earth is round like an orange, and that we live on the outside of it. He said to them repeatedly:

"If we sail west steadily, we shall in time arrive back at the place from which we started." Finally, not only the sailors, but the people in the streets pointed their fingers at him and said:

"There goes the crazy old man, who thinks the world is as round as an apple."

The more he talked and reasoned and argued and even drew maps to prove that he was right, the more everybody shook their heads and called him crazy.

Columbus was about to give up in despair because he was very poor, and there seemed to be no way by which he could demonstrate that his theory of the shape of the earth was correct.

And now comes a curious coincidence.

He was a very devout Christian, and felt certain that the inhabitants of this strange country in the west had never heard of our God nor of his beloved son Jesus, and his heart was fired with zeal to reach these poor heathens and tell them the story of the Christ.

About this time some influential friend secured an audience for him with the King of Portugal, but it did no good to tell his story to the rich monarch, who was neither of a scientific nor a religious turn of mind, and he might as well have talked to the wind. Utterly discouraged Columbus decided to go to Spain, which is a near neighbor of Portugal, and see if he could not induce the famous King Ferdinand and Isabella, the queen, to give him boats to make his longed-for voyage. The queen especially was very pious and was much interested in Columbus' story about the heathens, but the ministers of her court laughed at Columbus and said:

"It is a foolish dream which can never be carried out."

Almost heart-broken Columbus silently turned his back on the Spanish capital and walked a long way to a seaport called Palos, where there was a queer old convent in which strangers were made welcome by the kind monks living in it. Knocking upon the gate, he said to the porter:

"Will you please give me a bit of bread and a drink of water."

Fortunately, the prior, a learned man and an intimate friend of Queen Isabella came along, and was quick to see that Columbus was no common beggar. He invited him in, and after listening quietly and thoughtfully to his visitor's plan of crossing the ocean to convert the heathen to Christianity, he borrowed a mule and rode miles across the country to the castle where the Queen was staying and persuaded her to help Columbus.

"It is your duty," he said. "God has given you riches and many blessings that you may assist your fellow men, and these strange people know nothing of our God, and they need teachers to help them find the right way of living."

Queen Isabella was so impressed with what he said that she immediately petitioned the Royal Treasurer to give Columbus money to make his voyage of discovery.

"Your majesty, there is no money to spare," was the polite answer of the Treasurer, who, like all the rest of the court, thought Columbus was a visionary dreamer if not crazy.

"Very well," she said. "I will pawn my crown jewels," and she did. This was a most noble and courageous act on her part, for a queen in those days was scarcely considered dignified or respectable without splendid crown jewels to wear on public occasions, but she was bent upon sending the gospel of Christ to the heathen in America. Does it not seem strange that the Golden Hearted and the Queen of Spain should be credited with the same desire to help the people of the Americas, and that they lived hundreds of years apart and could never have known of each other, and that one incident is a fact of history and the other only a legend?

But as soon as Columbus secured the money another difficulty arose. No sailor could be found who would risk his life on an unknown sea with such a crazy old man. Finally Queen Isabella had to promise liberty and full pardon to the convicts in the prisons before Columbus could get any one to go with him. It was a terrible thing for him but he had a brave heart, and the monks from the convent at Palos sent some of their number with him to teach the natives.

On and on, the three caravels, the Santa Maria, the Pinta and Nina, sailed without finding land, until their provisions were getting low and the crews of convicts were about to mutiny and kill Columbus. In order to keep them quiet he told them wonderful stories of the riches of this land they were trying to find.

"You can have all the gold, and silver, and precious gems you can carry," he promised them. In an instant you could see the cunning and greed in their wicked faces. They did not care whether the earth was round or flat, nor what became of the natives, if they only had gold, and then they would gather around Columbus and question him closely about the size of the nuggets and precious stones. Of course he could only guess at it, but he knew that to save his life he must say something, so he replied:

"I firmly believe that there are immense pieces of solid gold to be found there, and that it is abundant."

Some thought they would find it in lumps as big as a house, and they all expected to pick up hands full of gems just anywhere. Columbus had strained his eyes looking for the land until he was nearly blind, but one night he imagined he saw a glimmer of light ahead. Where there was light there must be land, he thought. So he called one of the sailors to him and asked him what he saw.

"A light! a light!" cried the sailor joyfully. But it was not until nearly two o'clock in the morning that the commander of one of the other boats started the cry:

"Land! Land ahead!"

You can imagine what excitement there was on all the caravels, and how thankful Columbus was. The padres gathered around him, and as he sprang ashore, he dropped on his knees and stooped and kissed the ground. Even the sailors forgot about the gold while he and the padres prayed and thanked God for giving mankind a new world.

Immediately the flag of Spain was planted and the land claimed for King Ferdinand and Isabella, but wonderful indeed were the things surrounding them. Men and women of a bronze color crowded around them and offered them strange, but delicious fruits and flowers and brought them food and water. In his first letter to Queen Isabella, Columbus said of them:

"There is not in all the world a better people nor a better land. Their converse is ever sweet and gentle, and is accompanied by a smile. They truly love their neighbor as themselves."

Finding them docile and kind the padres set about teaching them, and the simple natives were very willing listeners. It was quite a long time before they could understand each other well, but the padres told the story of the Christ the first time they held a service, which was on a Sunday. Remembering the precepts of the Golden Hearted, the faces of the natives lighted up understandingly when they heard the words of Jesus which bade them be loving and kind to each other, and they nodded their heads and exclaimed:

"El Dorado! El Dorado!"

At least that is what the ignorant convict sailors thought they said. The words "El Dorado" in Spanish, which was their mother tongue, meant "The Golden," or "The Gilded One." We know they were eager and greedy to find gold and that they had been told to help themselves freely to all they could get, so they immediately began to question the simple natives.

"Yes, yes; we have plenty of gold," the natives said, in surprise, because they did not value it at all, except for ornaments, and they ran to fetch some for their visitors. When they saw how glad it made the sailors, they were happy and content as a lot of children, and they not only brought all they had, but told where there was plenty more to be found.

"Bimini, the Fountain of Youth"

When Columbus sailed back to Spain and told the story of his wonderful discoveries the people did not believe him at first, but when he showed them the gold and silver ornaments, and the strange red men, they were so amazed that they forgot even to ask questions.

The news was so startling that it simply took their breath away and they stared at each other stupidly. Then they said in awe-stricken whispers:

"How can such things be? Is the world coming to an end? Are we going to die? Or are _we_ crazy? Maybe our ears and eyes are fooling us."

But Columbus only smiled and said:

"My friends, you see I was right. The earth is round, and I have not only found India with its untold riches, but I have brought some of its people home with me."

And that is why today we call the red men Indians. Columbus did not know that he had discovered a new continent, so it was natural for him to speak of the natives as Indians. And I am sure you will pity him when I tell you that he died without ever knowing the difference.

All Europe was in a fever of excitement over his voyage, and it was not long before he fitted out other vessels and sailed across the ocean again to find the northwest passage which he believed would shorten the route to India. Rich men, and learned ones, were ready to go with him, and the sailors expected to find gold and precious stones scattered all over the ground. Every word that the convicts told them about El Dorado they thought meant gold, and the wildest and most exaggerated stories were soon in everybody's mouth.

The padres, too, were enthusiastic over the prospect of converting the heathen, but nobody took the trouble to find out what the Indians believed about God. Every one misunderstood the meaning of El Dorado and never dreamed that there had been such a teacher as the Golden Hearted, or that the Indians already knew how to be brotherly and kind.

Even the most learned men in those days were ready to accept the existence of a mythical city called Cathay as true.

They thought it was situated somewhere between the island of Newfoundland and Florida, where they expected to find the spice groves. Another story very common in Europe said that there was among the beautiful summer isles of the west, one that conferred immortality and was spoken of as the Island of Perpetual Youth. Among those whose imagination was fired by this romance was a brave knight named Ponce de Leon, who was Columbus' companion on his second voyage. He did not care for the gold of the new world, for he was already rich, but he was old, and he wanted to renew his youth. King Ferdinand commissioned him Governor of Porto Rico, but he soon tired of it, and was determined to discover the magic spring.

"For what reason should I stay here and lord it over these half-naked savages," he said to his relatives and friends when they tried to dissuade him from undertaking such a perilous search. "Let us go where we can bathe in those enchanted waters and be young once more. I need it and so will you before very long."

"But how do you know there is such a place?" they asked.

"By hearing the full particulars of an old Indian who went there and washed himself and drank from the spring until he was restored to youth and vigor. Let us go and be like him."

To find this new marvel he set sail with three brigantines, and the adventurers with him floated over the summer sea, as men bent upon pleasure, and to whom time was long and burdened with no serious duties. They sailed from island to island touching here and there as fancy led them. They sought the safest and pleasantest coves, where the shades were deepest in the noonday sun, and the waters coolest; where the fruits were the sweetest, the Indians most friendly and their women the loveliest. At last they came to an inlet which led invitingly up among wooded banks and flowering valleys. Here the old knight said:

"Let us disembark and strike inland. My heart tells me that we have found the Fountain of Youth."

"Nonsense," said his younger kinsman, "our way lies by water."

"Then leave me here with my men," he replied, and after an angry discussion five men, long past middle age, and who had come with him from Spain, were left on shore. The first thing they did was to climb to the top of a hill and set up a cross which they had brought with them. As soon as it was in place they all removed their helmets and prayed before it. One of the men said to him:

"The ground is pawed up as if cattle ranged here, and this path has been trod by human feet."

"You are right," said Ponce de Leon, "lead the way and we will follow."

Taking the path they met about fifty Indian bowmen, who seemed to their startled vision like a whole company of giants, but, who proved to be of a very friendly disposition.

The grizzled old knights were anxious to inquire about the fabled Fountain, so they gave the Indians strings of gay-colored beads, and some little bells. In return they received an arrow, as a token of good will. After a long parley the bowmen turned back to their huts. "We will bring you food in the morning," they said, and at daybreak they appeared again bringing plenty of fish, roots and fruits. When they saw that the men were chilly from the cold night air, they said to each other:

"Let us carry our brothers to our homes where they can get warm."

"But they will suffer on the way," said the chief. "Go before us and build big fires and we will stop at each one to rest our weary arms."

The Spanish knights did not know what to make of this kind of treatment, but they offered no resistance when the stalwart warriors took them on their backs and started through the woods. The Indians carried them very carefully, and at last set them down before the doors of their huts where the women brought them food and drink.

"I wonder what they intend to do with us," said the knights among themselves. On hearing this remark Ponce de Leon replied:

"It is just possible that they will offer us as a sacrifice, for it is quite plain that they think we are supernatural beings."

"Let us get away from them as quickly as we can," they said, fearing that something terrible would happen.

"Before we go we must try to find out about the magic spring we are seeking," replied Ponce de Leon, unwilling to give up his project. It required considerable time and patience to make the Indians comprehend what he wanted, but they stoutly maintained that they knew nothing about it.

"These redskins are cunning rascals, and will not tell us where to find the Fountain of Youth," said Ponce de Leon, in explanation, after his fruitless talk with them, "but God giving us strength we will find it yet."

So they went slowly and carefully over the whole country, stopping at each spring to take off their clothes and jump into it, then they would drink as much of the water as they could, and sit down and wait to see if it would make them young again. As they went farther away from the coast the Indians became more and more friendly, because they thought the white men had come from Heaven.

"We must bring them food, build houses for them and bear all their burdens," they said among themselves. Some went out on the hills and killed deer with their bows and arrows, while others killed rabbits by going in a big wide circuit and then gradually closing in on the game. When near enough they knocked the rabbit on the head with a wooden club as it ran by them.

"Breathe upon and bless our food," they said to the knights, after giving them all they wanted for themselves, "so that we may feel sure in our hearts that you are pleased with us."

At first only the men made these requests, but finally the women brought wild fruits and berries, which they wanted the visitors to see and touch before they would eat. All this was very troublesome to the knights, but if they refused or acted as if they were offended, the poor Indians were terrified, and falling on their faces would cry out:

"We shall die unless we have the favor of our good and wise white brothers."

Farther on, the people did not venture to come out in the paths and gather round them as the first had done, but stayed meekly in their houses, sitting with their faces turned to the wall, and with all their property heaped up in the middle of the floor.

"We could easily plunder and rob these simple folk," said Ponce de Leon, "but I charge you on your honor as knights to take nothing you do not pay for."

In spite of this the natives loaded them with valuable skins and other presents, and were eager and willing to show all the springs and creeks in their neighborhood.

"They pretend to know nothing of the miraculous gifts of the Fountain of Youth, but their own splendid endurance of heat and cold, and the fatigues of travel show how perpetually young and active they are. If their bodies were pierced through with arrows they would soon recover. They are trying to mislead us and conceal the source of their strength, but we will soon find it," the Spanish knights said, and Ponce de Leon, their leader, heartily agreed with them.

Never in the world had there been such a strange journey undertaken by gray and careworn men. On and on they went searching in the heart of the woods for a fountain where they could renew their youth. Yellow jasmine trailed in festoons above their heads; wild roses grew at their feet; the air was sweet with the odor of pine, while long gray moss hung from the branches of the live-oaks.

Finally they came to a spring which widened into a natural basin and bubbled up in such a cool, delicious manner, that Ponce de Leon plunged into it with joy. Coming up on the bank to dress himself, he exclaimed:

"It is enough. I have bathed in the Fountain of Youth. See, I am young again."

His companions hastened to try it, and they too said the same.

"Hurrah! hurrah! the Fountain of Youth has been found! Let us make haste to tell the world of your discovery."

But they were mistaken and had not counted on what the Indians would do about it. When they found that the white men wanted a boat to go down the river they were eager to get it for them, but when they understood that they were going away, they wept bitterly, and tried every way to persuade them to stay.

"No, we will not remain. This is Florida, the land of flowers, and we are looking for Bimini, the Fountain of Youth," said Ponce de Leon, firmly. "Your people have misled us continually. Bimini is an island and we are going to search until we find it."

"And if you succeed will you return to us," asked an Indian chief eagerly. "You have the secret of life and death in your hands, and have already saved my wife and child. Stay and we will serve you faithfully."

"Oh! my brothers, stay with us!" begged and implored the Indians. Some of them clung to the garments of the knights, and others were dragged out of the boat by the determined natives. Finally Ponce de Leon, grown tired of useless parley, said angrily:

"I am old and weary and must soon die if I do not find the waters which will renew my youth and vigor. Your thickets and swamps are filled with alligators and poisonous water snakes; the very air is laden with deadly fevers, and never again will I return to it."

As the canoe started down the river the Indians wrung their hands and wailed loudly:

"Come back! come back!" But Ponce de Leon stood up in the boat and shook his head, and made them understand by signs that he would not do as they wished. This made them all the more frantic and one of the warriors, snatching up a poisoned arrow, sped it with deadly aim. It went through the thigh of the gallant old knight where he stood, and it was not long until death ended his search for the Fountain of Youth. Since then no one has ever tried to locate this wonder-working fountain, but philosophers say that it is in our own hearts and that we find it when we realize that the soul never dies, and is perpetually young because of its immortality.

Montezuma and the Paba

Columbus died poor and in prison because nobody was interested in his effort to find a northwest passage to India, or cared whether the earth was round or flat. They wanted gold, and the stories of El Dorado told by the ignorant sailors had more influence on the people than anything Columbus said or did.

"I have merely opened the gates for others to enter," he exclaimed bitterly, when he found himself thwarted in all his plans, but there is more honor accorded his memory than to any of the others who came after him, and made immense fortunes.

The same year that Queen Isabella died, a young man, but nineteen years old, named Hernando Cortez, sailed from Spain for Cuba. Already there was quite a Spanish settlement on the island, and when the Governor offered him a large tract of land with Indian slaves to cultivate it, he answered angrily:

"I came to get gold, not to till the soil like a peasant."

He expected to find untold wealth locked up in the unexplored regions of the new world, and had no patience with any of the slower methods of gaining riches. Instead of working he meant to fight for what he wanted and we shall find when we know more about him that he broke his word to his king, the governor of Cuba, to his wife, to his soldiers, and to every friend who served him. Yet he was born a gentleman, handsome and well mannered, but a greedy love of gold rendered him brutal and treacherous to a degree.

In his company were gallant knights of chivalry, servile retainers of the king, soldiers of fortune, and bearded friars, who left behind them country, home, family, friends and sweethearts, to seek El Dorado, which to them meant simply gold. When we study the history of the United States we shall be surprised to find men like them in full armor of steel, with lance, shield and helmet, mounted on prancing steeds, caparisoned in gay colors, glittering through the untracked wilderness of Florida, Georgia, Alabama, and even as far west as Arizona, always in search of El Dorado. And in every case their greed for gold led to such bloodshed and violence, that it makes the heart ache to think about it.

Not many years after Cortez landed in Cuba, the Governor sent for him and said:

"I have at last secured permission from the king to explore the continent lying to the west, and I desire you to take ships and soldiers and have command of the expedition."

Something in Cortez' manner excited the suspicion of the Governor, but he said nothing until he was ready to sail. Then he withdrew the commission, and ordered Cortez to remain in Cuba. Instead of obeying he stole away in the night, and did not land until he came to the coast of Mexico, close to the point from which the Golden Hearted had sailed. His men were afraid to venture far from shore, but he painted glowing pictures of the gold they were to find, and said:

"I hold out to you a glorious prize, but it is only to be won by incessant toil."

Then holding up a black velvet standard with a red cross in the center, surrounded by flames of blue and white, he continued:

"Comrades, let us follow the cross, and under this sign if we have faith, we shall conquer."

The padres with them, who had come to minister to the spiritual welfare of the cavaliers and soldiers, urged them to go forward, saying:

"We are in honor bound to carry the gospel to these poor, ignorant heathens, and God has given you the privilege of helping in this work."

The Indians were friendly and when asked for gold, answered:

"We on the sea coast have little, but in Tenochtitlan there is a rich and powerful king named Montezuma, who has much gold and other treasures."

Around them were parched and sandy plains, but on the march they soon came to "the land of bread," as the Tlascallan country was called, and here they heard of Cholula, the sacred city. When they came in sight of it they exclaimed:

"It is the promised land!" and were amazed at the splendor of the city, as well as the surrounding country, where there were fields of maize, vanilla, indigo, sugar cane, flowering cacao groves, and banana trees in profusion. The streets of Cholula were filled with a concourse of priests whom Cortez mistook for beggars. They were holding a religious festival in honor of Quetzalcoatl, which was their name for the Golden Hearted, who had now become the Fair God of tradition. Long had they been expecting him to return to Cholula, and because Cortez had a fair complexion, and was accompanied by other white men they thought the Golden Hearted had come at last. The people lined the streets and roadways and not only wore garlands of flowers on their heads, but tossed bouquets to the soldiers, while the priests met them with music and swung incense up and down the cleanly-swept streets they passed through.

"What is the will of Quetzalcoatl?" they asked eagerly of Cortez.

"Do you come from Tlapalla?" they inquired of his followers.

"No," they were answered, "but we have a disease of the heart which only gold can cure."

Then the simple natives brought all the gold-dust and little trinkets they could find and gave to their visitors. Cortez thanked them, but said:

"This is not enough. We must have very much more."

"Then you would better ask our friend and ally, the great king, Montezuma. He has immense stores of it."

"Where is this great king, and this city of Tenochtitlan?"

"Farther to the west," they answered.

Shortly after this an embassy of nobles from the court of Montezuma appeared with rich presents and an invitation to Cortez to visit the king. None of them had ever seen a white man before, and they did not for a moment doubt that Cortez was the Golden Hearted, returned to claim his own, and they were very anxious to please him. Touching his brass helmet one of them said timidly:

"It is very like that worn by Quetzalcoatl, and I would like our king, Montezuma, to see it."

"Certainly," responded Cortez, "but bring it back filled with gold." And they did. No one knows just why, but something made Cortez suspect the gentle natives of treachery, and one morning at daybreak he fell upon them in the market place, and slew thousands of people, and then set fire to the city. His rude soldiers went up on the pyramid and threw down the statue of the Golden Hearted, and erected a cross in its place. History says that the Aztecs had long been offering the hearts of human beings in sacrifice to the Golden Hearted in Cholula, while in Tenochtitlan they had set up an image of a terrible war god, and were worshiping that more than the gentle, inoffensive Golden Hearted. It was this disobedience which made Montezuma fear that he was returning to take vengeance.

One morning early the king went to see the Paba, who had charge of the sacred fires on the altars built by the Golden Hearted himself. The chamber in the temple was square, with the ceiling covered by a lattice work of shining white and yellow metal which, at the intersections, was carved to represent flowers set with jewels. All around the walls were sculptured pictures of men. As the king approached the Paba said:

"The gloomy clouds hanging overhead are not darker than is the mood of Quetzalcoatl, but to the poor Paba the voice of the king is ever welcome."

"Why should the mood of Quetzalcoatl be dark? A new teocalli holds his image, and they say he is happy and that he comes from the place of sunrise with a canoe filled with blessings."

"Do you remember, O king! that in some of the underground chambers of this temple, besides vast stores of wealth, there are prophecies to be read?"

"I remember it well," said Montezuma.

"Give me leave, and I will show you the writing from Quetzalcoatl himself."

Groping their way through the great underground cavern, but dimly lighted, the Paba said:

"Son of a king, is your heart strong? The writing begins here and continues around the wall."

"Read it," said Montezuma.

"The first is here on the north and represents the ancient king on the march. You see him in the midst of warriors who are dancing in honor of his victories. Here we have the whole story of our race."

"This was before the coming of Quetzalcoatl and is of the remote past," said Montezuma, with a frown.

"On the southern wall, opposite," replied the Paba, "is what you seek. Observe the king stands on a rock, and a priest points out to him an eagle on a cactus holding a serpent in its claws. Beside it the king reclines on a couch. Our city has been founded."

Montezuma said not a word, but turned to another panel.

"Look well to this, O king! There is Quetzalcoatl before an altar offering a sacrifice of fruit and flowers. _His hands are free from blood!_"

Montezuma's face was deadly pale, because he knew that many orders of priests in his kingdom sacrificed human beings by cutting out their hearts, and he was afraid that the coming of the strange white men was on account of this forbidden practice.

"See! Oh majesty! the fair god is departing from our beloved Tenochtitlan. Saddest of all days was that for us."

"Show me a prophecy if you would have me believe that this was written by Quetzalcoatl. I would know something of the future."

"Be wise, oh my master! Let the future alone; it is sown with sorrows for all you love."

"Until I wrong the gods why should I fear them? Have done, Paba. I, too, am a priest," said Montezuma, earnestly.

"I, his true servant, tell you never again to look for smile from Tlapalla. I will show you from Quetzalcoatl himself, that the end of your empire is at hand. Every breeze from the east is filled with woe for you and yours. The writing is on the wall. Look again and closely."

"I see nothing," cried the king.

"All that you have heard about the return of Quetzalcoatl is true. He is coming to end the days of the Aztecs forever."

"Forever! It cannot be. Read the next panel."

"There is no other, this is the last," answered the Paba sadly.

Montezuma turned quickly to the north wall, but found it without a single mark. Here indeed was the end.

That night the Aztec king could neither eat nor sleep. The prophecy was with him all the time. When the morning came he called for his canoe. From the battlements of Chapultepec, the palace and tomb of his fathers, he would see the sun rise. If Quetzalcoatl was angered and meant to wreak vengeance, he naturally supposed the sun, his dwelling place, would give some warning.

In all the heavens around there was not a fleck when suddenly a cloud of smoke rushed upward, and across the pathway of the sun, so that when it crept over the mountain range, it looked like a ball of blood! Montezuma drew the hood over his face quickly, and his head dropped on his breast.

The Paba had spoken the truth. Quetzalcoatl was coming! and next evening a runner sped hotly over the causeway and up the street, stopping at the gate of the royal palace. He was taken before the king and shortly after the news went flying over Tenochtitlan, that Quetzalcoatl had arrived in his huge water-house with wings, and filled with thunder and lightning! for that was what the Aztecs called the ships and cannon brought by Cortez.

When Montezuma heard of the terrible massacre in Cholula, he called a council of wise old men and said:

"Of what use is it, uncles? The gods are against us and resistance is of no avail. I mourn most for the women and children, and the old and infirm who are too feeble to fight or fly. For myself and the brave men around me, we must bare our breasts to the storm and meet it as we may."