Night had fallen by this time and as soon as it was quite dark—it had been gloomy enough before—Allerton suggested that some of us form a party to go for the electrites. We left Nux and Bryonia, quite recovered by this time, with Ned and Pedro to guard our prisoner, while the rest of us set out for the temple by way of the open window.
There was not a star in the sky, but fortunately Paul had retained his dark lantern and we depended upon that to assist us when we got to the temple. Until then we dared not show a light. We stumbled over rubbish and debris at every step, and once or twice, as we neared the temple, I recoiled as my foot touched something that I instinctively felt was a dead body.
Finally we came to the ruined wall and after climbing over the scattered blocks of marble Paul got out his lantern to guide us.
We found the hole in the floor and after lighting up the aperture and sending a ray into the basement to show us the way, Allerton handed the lamp to Chaka and dropped lightly into the cellar. It was a rather risky proceeding, for the great building was in a dangerous condition. Only one wall had actually fallen, but the others were more or less cracked and displaced, while some of the huge blocks of marble that had formed the coping were liable to topple down upon us at any moment. Nor was the flooring any too secure. But Joe and I followed Allerton without hesitation and then Chaka handed us the lamp. Presently, amid bales and boxes of curious shapes we came across our property, and passed the belts and electrites from one to another until Archie and Chaka received them above and laid them in a pile.
“Now let’s get out of this,” I said. “It’s too dangerous to suit me.”
“Wait a minute,” called Paul, who had been turning the light in every direction. As he spoke he clambered over some bales and then pounced upon some object he had discovered. It proved to be the extra gas-jacket that had been taken from our chest, and Joe and I both uttered shouts of joy at its recovery.
“The others may be here, too,” I exclaimed, my fears all forgotten. “Let’s search for them.”
We did, but without result. We came across one or two minor articles that had seemed suspicious to the Tcha who rifled our chests, but no firearms nor any more of the gas-jackets were in the cellar of the temple. Finally we climbed out of the hole again and, carefully securing the belts and electrites, made our way back to our quarters.
Chapter XXIV
WE WITNESS A DARING DEED
Having armed ourselves with the electrites, each putting on a fresh belt, we concealed the precious gas-jacket beneath a divan. True, there was but one for nine of us, but it meant that one person in the party, at least, would be able to leave the valley at will, and that counted for a good deal with those in our present uncomfortable position. Paul even thought the inflated jacket might be made to float two, at a pinch. At present there was no suggestion of any one’s taking advantage of the find to run away from his comrades; but it was a satisfaction to us all to know we had recovered the jacket. Plenty of themlyne crystals were in the chest left to us, and the little case attached to the jacket was filled with them, in readiness for any emergency.
None of us slept much during the rest of that eventful night, unless it was Pedro, who was so exhausted he needed to regain his former strength. Next morning we foraged for breakfast, not permitting any of the priests to enter the room lest they spy their leader as our prisoner. They were a very subdued crowd, by this time, and gave us no trouble.
But the question was how to visit Ama in a bunch, as she had requested, and still leave old Katalat a safe prisoner in our room. Finally we solved the problem by deciding to take him with us.
“Now that we are armed,” said Paul, “even the Waba Pagatka will hesitate to interfere with us. But the valley is so utterly demoralized just now that I scarcely think we shall be attacked.”
The sky still retained its sombre hue, and Nux, who was born in a land subject to earthquakes, shook his head and predicted more trouble for the Vale of Tcha.
“When one quake come,” he said, “three quakes come. Each is more badder than de odder.”
We had had two already, and anything worse than last night’s performance was surely to be dreaded. But we were not borrowing trouble just then.
We found great confusion in the quarters of the priestesses. Their palace had not suffered so much damage as that of the priests, but huge stones from the mountain side littered the ground everywhere. The beauty of this retreat was evidently spoiled for some time to come.
We had met with no interference on the way, although the priests gathered to watch us march their leader away as our prisoner. Ama, however, was startled to see Katalat in bonds and at once ordered us to release him. We did so reluctantly, and when she demanded an explanation Paul said we considered the new High Priest dangerous to us all. Katalat smiled grimly at hearing this, but said nothing.
“He is a Tcha,” remarked Ama, proudly, “and a faithful servant of our great and glorious god, the Sun. In his youth he was our record-keeper and librarian, being skilled in literature and the arts. Such a one can be dangerous only to the enemies of the Tcha.”
But she was too distressed over the condition of the valley and her dead and suffering subjects to dwell upon this incident long, and eagerly she begged us to advise her what to do to restore a semblance of order and comfort as quickly as possible. Being travelers of wide experience, she added, we ought to know how to handle such a condition better than the Tcha, who were seemingly stunned by their misfortune—the first of its kind that had overtaken them since they had occupied the valley thousands of years ago.
We counseled her as well as we could, and it seemed a good omen that just then the sun appeared in the sky and sent his warming rays to flood the stricken valley. Of me the girl seemed much afraid, saying I had predicted the calamity that had overtaken them, and in addition to being a seer she imagined I might be a wizard, as well, and by diabolical arts had wrought all this desolation. It amused me to be accorded such powers, but I am sorry to feel that pretty Ama was afraid of me.
Paul suggested that she call a meeting of the principal inhabitants at the great theatre, or assembly hall, and there give them instructions what to do, as well as an encouraging speech. She caught at this plan eagerly and dispatched her messengers at once. Meantime Chaka and Allerton gave the girl much good advice, and Archie and Joe aided them quite effectually. She would not listen to me at all, so I kept silent.
All this time the new High Priest stood dumbly listening to the conservation. He took no part in the conference himself, even when the Supreme Ruler appealed to him, and I thought his conduct that of a cad and a cur. After Ama he held the highest rank in the Vale, and it certainly was his duty to assist her in her present trouble. But no; he kept his mouth shut and his wild roving eyes fixed intently on our faces.
Presently the messengers returned to say that the people were assembling at the theatre, and Ama immediately prepared to join them. She must deck herself in her imperial robes, it seemed; so we were requested to meet her just at the edge of the city and accompany her to the meeting. She noticed our electrites but did not ask in what manner we had recovered them. Also she noted Pedro’s presence, and that the supposed sacrifice was still alive and well; but not a word concerning him passed her lips. She was intent on more important matters.
While we waited in the grounds Chaka made a trip to our room and put on the gas-jacket, covering it with his flowing tunic. This he did at Allerton’s request. The High Priest, being now free, had rejoined his satellites and we saw them all whispering together before they marched away in a body to the meeting. Doubtless old Katalat meant to cause trouble, if he could.
We followed them slowly, halting just without the circle of buildings to wait for Ama. I thought she would come in the golden electric chariot she used on state occasions, but because of the rocks and debris that cluttered the way she was obliged to walk.
The High Priestess and her escort made an impressive appearance, nevertheless. First came six young girls swinging censers; then Ama alone. Following her were the Virgins of the Sun in their snow-white gowns.
At her signal we went ahead and were approaching near to the theatre when the final calamity overtook this devoted land.
The clear sky had nothing to do with the third earthquake. It came unheralded, without an instant’s warning. A sound as of a heavy sea dashing against breakers was followed by so mighty a crash that every living creature in the Vale of Tcha reeled and fell headlong.
It was all over, then. A mere instant had wrecked the beautiful city and buried hundreds in its ruins. More than that, as we rose dazed and trembling to our feet we saw that the south end of the huge mountain had split in twain, and through the rift we could look far out upon the plains toward the Great Lake and the City of Itza.
But now another horror confronted us. The ground of the valley had likewise split into big cracks, one of them almost at our feet. The censer girls had disappeared; the Virgins had likewise been swallowed up or had rushed back to firmer land. But there, upon a tiny island formed by two irregular chasms, stood Ama, erect and motionless, while the bit of ground that supported her slight and beautiful form swayed visibly to and fro, as if hesitating which way to plunge its fair burden into the black gulf below.
I saw a flash and felt a rush of air past me as Chaka made a great leap and alighted at the girl’s feet. For a moment I thought they were both about to be engulfed, but he steadied her with one hand as he knelt beside her, while with the other he fumbled with the valve of the themlyne case. He had cast aside his tunic before he made that wonderful leap, and as we stood spellbound, watching him with throbbing hearts, we could see the gas-jacket slowly swell as the powerful gas was generated and rushed into it.
It seemed a desperate chance to take; there was scarcely any foundation to support the swaying bit of ground, which was crumbling away before our very eyes. A few seconds now would end it all, and we stared helplessly, with a sickening dread of the impending tragedy.
Chaka straightened up, gained his feet and passed an arm around Ama’s waist. She appeared not to notice him; her face was white and set, her eyes turned steadily ahead to the spot where Paul stood with clasped hands, praying as he had never before prayed in all his life.
Chaka and Ama swayed with the little island, which toppled and fell with a roar into the abyss. Slowly—slowly but surely—they two sank after it, the girl clasped tightly in the atkayma’s arms, and disappeared from our view.
Archie and I caught Allerton as he sank unconscious and inert to the ground. Joe had run away, for some reason. I was scarcely able to stand, myself, and the cry of horror from the throng of people who, rushing from the theatre, had witnessed this scene, conspired to unman me still further.
But a sudden revulsion of feeling came, for above the huge crack appeared Chaka’s head—rising, gradually rising, an inch at a time—until he was again in full view, the girl still clasped in his arms. She had fainted, and lay with her golden red hair streaming over the atkayma’s shoulder.
We shouted for joy, then, and all the Tcha behind us echoed the shout, for once startled out of their inbred apathy.
Straight up, to some twenty feet above the chasm’s edge floated Chaka, and then remained stationary. The gas-jacket was inflated to its fullest extent, but was not light enough to carry the double burden higher. No air stirred; here was no way to succor the pair, it seemed, or bring them to firm ground.
We had reckoned without Joe, however. I never knew where the boy found that rope, or how he came to think of running search of it. But now the line shot into the air, in true sailor- or cowboy-fashion, and Chaka managed to grab it with one hand while he clung to Ama with the other. Then Joe slowly and steadily drew them away from their dangerous position to where we stood with outstretched arms eager to receive them.
The assistance came none too soon, for the gas was escaping through a defect in the valve and without the aid of the rope Chaka would soon have made a second and final descent into the gulf. As it was, he was barely above the edge when we drew him in.
The Maya was as calm and cool as if no danger had threatened him. Some Tcha women brought water and took charge of Paul and the High Priestess, trying to restore them to consciousness. While they worked, without warning the crack came together with a sound like a thunder-clap, the impact throwing us all upon our faces again. Only an uneven ridge of crumpled earth marked the line where the great jagged opening had extended half way across the valley.
Chaka, standing beside me, gave an involuntary shudder.
“There was fire below us,” he said in an awed tone, “and that was what caused Ama to faint. Under this mountain is a great volcano. It has been burning for countless ages, biding its time, and the people knew it not until the crouching monster rose to-day in its might and vanquished them.”
“See!” I exclaimed. “The cleft in the mountain side is still open. Beyond is your own country, Chaka.”
“Yes,” he replied, with an accent of sadness; “the hidden city is hidden no longer.”
CHAPTER XXV
WE REPEL THE INVADERS
Allerton was soon himself again and assisted in rubbing the girl’s hands to restore their circulation, while Chaka, who had saved her life with such admirable courage, stood passively by regarding the scene.
Presently Ama opened her eyes, and naturally the first thing they fell upon was Paul’s anxious face. She smiled at him, sighed, and stirred uneasily as the recollection of the fearful experience through which she had passed slowly dawned upon her. Then she sat up and struggled to her feet, gazing with horror at her ruined city and the vista of the Itzaex country that showed through the riven mountain.
“Come!” she said, and without heeding her own people, who flocked about her, she extended one hand to Chaka, the other to Paul, and supported between them staggered away to examine the extent of the damage.
One would expect wild excitement in the valley now; but the Tcha were a queer race. Those who had been saved from injury by assembling at the theatre sat down where they were and gazed in mute despair at the ruins of the splendid city they had known and loved so well. Even the priests were completely demoralized and I saw our enemy Katalat, wrapped in his robe, standing silent and alone, his glassy eyes fixed on the ground at his feet, as if lost in thought.
After all there was little to blame in the demeanor of the Tcha. The race having existed in this favored spot for centuries upon centuries, the present inhabitants had had no thought of insecurity. So suddenly had the earthquakes and their attendant misfortunes come upon them that they were stunned for the time and incapable of action, or even logical thought.
Ama moaned and wept at every step of her progress through the city. There was hardly a building that had escaped damage; by far the majority were irretrievably demolished. The artisans’ quarters had suffered most, as their buildings were not as strongly built as the others, and hundreds of dead were buried under the walls of their home.
The poor girl could not bear the sad sights for long. Even with our assistance, which we earnestly volunteered, little could be done in this hour of disaster to relieve the stricken ones; so presently Ama turned toward her own palace.
Here was more desolation, but parts of the vast building still remained intact and the rooms occupied by the High Priestess were yet habitable. Of the fifty attendant priestesses only about thirty had escaped death, the others having been swallowed up when the earth opened. The survivors were wailing dismally when we arrived, and there was no way to comfort them.
Ama withdrew to her rooms and shut herself up. We did not see her again for three days. Meantime we resumed our former quarters in the one-story wing of the priests’ palace, which was about all there was left of that building. Katalat and his followers took possession of the prison, which being low and solid had escaped damage, and for a time we heard nothing of them, either.
I proposed to our party that we collect such stores of food as we would find and a few more rubies and make our way back through the Itzaex country to the ship. Paul said we could go if we wished, but for his part he intended to stay until Ama was out of her trouble. Chaka declared he would stay also. There was no use in arguing with them, for they both loved the girl; so of course we all stayed. No one can desert a comrade at such a time.
On the evening of the third day a Tcha who had been put to guard the rift in the mountain came running to say that a great horde of Itzaex warriors was marching toward us and had encamped for the night but three hours’ distant from the city.
When this news reached Ama she sent for us at once, asking what could be done to protect her people.
“What are your future plans?” asked Paul, calmly. “Do you intend to rebuild the city?”
“To be sure,” she replied. “Already I have consulted with the Tribunal, with the High Priest Katalat and with my principal nobles, and we have determined to erect a new city upon these ruins. But it will take many years to do this and my people have not yet recovered from the shock of their misfortunes.”
“Now that the mountain side is split open and a path made into the valley,” said Allerton, “all the world will be coming here, and you cannot prevent it. Here are the Itzaex now, bent on conquering the remnants of the Tcha and plundering you of your treasures. They are merely the forerunners of others to come.”
She wrung her hands in abject despair.
“What shall I do?” she moaned. “Oh, what shall I do?”
“Fight!” said Chaka, suddenly. The Itzaex were his own people, too.
“We’ll help to drive them away,” declared Archie, enthusiastically.
Paul was thoughtful.
“How much of a fighting force can you command?” he asked.
“The Public Guardians have always been sufficient for our purposes,” said Ama. “They number one hundred and are commanded by the Waba Pagatka. But I think every man in the valley will willingly fight to protect us from our foes.”
“Who leads the miners?” was his next question.
“Their chief, a Tcha named Ampax.”
“Send for him, and also for Pagatka,” he requested.
She dispatched messengers at once.
Pagatka came first and saluted the High Priestess with his usual deference.
“Gather all your men,” said Ama, “and take them to the opening the earthquake has made in the mountain. You are to guard us against the Itzaex, who will attack us early in the morning.”
“I have but eighty men left alive,” he stated. “The Itzaex are thousands.”
“But you have possession of the pass,” said Paul, “and I and my comrades will be there to help you. At all hazards the Itzaex must be kept from entering the valley. If they succeed they will kill without mercy every inhabitant.”
The Waba asserted he would do all in his power, and retired to assemble his men. Like all the rest of his people he was completely discouraged and had no hope of making a successful resistance.
When the miner, Ampax, arrived he proved to be a fine big fellow with a bushy beard of fiery red and keen, steadfast eyes. He was asked to get together all the men of his caste that he could and raise a rampart of stones across the mouth of the pass. As this was nearly a hundred feet in width it seemed a herculean task; but Ampax promptly undertook to do all that was possible. We liked this fellow. In this crisis he was the most capable Tcha we had found.
All night the miners labored at the pass and many others of the Tcha, when they understood the matter, willingly assisted them. The ground was well littered with rocks and blocks of marble from ruined buildings, so material was close at hand. By daybreak a barrier had been erected nearly five feet in height entirely across the opening.
Waba Pagatka came with his men, fully armed with spears and battle-axes, and the soldiers were lined up behind the barrier. Ama had ordered our firearms and ammunition returned to us, and these, supplemented by our electrites, made our little party of nine more formidable than the eighty soldiers of Pagatka. But the Tcha were at last beginning to take a lively interest in their own welfare and at daybreak volunteers began to join our ranks in fair numbers, among them several of the priesthood. They came armed very primitively with whatever weapons they could pick up. Axes, knives and heavy clubs were the chief of these, and there were a few bows and arrows brought out, but not many. Never in the lifetime of this generation had they been called upon to fight a battle; but they were a calm and determined lot, in spite of their inexperience, and we looked for them to render a good account of themselves.
Altogether we mustered that morning some four hundred men all told, and opposed to us were more than five thousand skilled Itzaex warriors, the bravest and fiercest fighters I have ever known. Really, our case seemed desperate.
The enemy broke camp at daybreak and marched up the mountain in good military order. At their head was borne aloft an open palanquin, upon which reclined a man who was doubtless their leader. Paul examined him through his field glasses and declared he was none other than our old enemy Datchapa. How the ancient uncle of the atkayma had managed to survive his tumble down the pyramid was a wonder; but he had, and of course he had soon recovered from the shock of the electrite.
The attack of the Itzaex was now fully explained. Chaka’s father, believing his son dead, had before his own demise confided the secret of the hidden city to Datchapa, who would become his successor. Doubtless he included in the tale a description of the beauty and riches of the city and valley. So when the earthquake came and the Itzaex saw the mountain rent asunder and a passage opened, old Datchapa had quickly decided to invade and conquer the stricken and helpless kingdom of the Tcha. That secluded race was certainly unprepared to oppose such an invasion, never having dreamed of trouble with their neighbors, the Itzaex, which proved how little they understood the savage nature of the tribe surrounding their retreat.
The sun had risen brilliantly when the attack began. The Itzaex were probably surprised at sight of the rampart which had sprung up in a single night, but they did not hesitate to advance upon it. Datchapa halted his palanquin to one side, but quite near the scene of action, and sat up, propped by his cushions, to direct the battle. I imagine his fall had broken some limbs that were slowly mending, but the old fellow’s energetic spirit urged him to lead his people on this momentous occasion in spite of his injuries.
Our party of nine was stationed close to the barrier, one every ten feet or so from the next, thus forming a line that controlled the entire space. All around us stood the defenders awaiting with composure the attack.
A shower of darts directed toward us did no harm at all, because we escaped them by simply ducking our heads. Arrows were likewise harmless. The Itzaex understood the situation and with savage cries swung their clubs and battle-axes and bounded forward to scale the rampart.
We used our repeating rifles, cutting into their front ranks with fearful effect; but the enemy came on undaunted. The Tcha now leaped to the top of the wall and from their point of vantage fought so desperately, yet coolly, that after some ten minutes of hand to hand conflict the Itzaex retreated to gain breath and reform their ranks. They left scores of dead and dying before the barrier, but our own forces had suffered severely, too. I was proud of the Tcha at that moment. They were fully as fearless as their enemies and made a capital defense when you consider they had never been trained for warfare.
The big miner Ampax touched Paul’s arm and pointed to a great cliff that far up on the mountain’s edge overhung the pass. The earthquake, in rending Aota’s side, had left this tremendous mass suspended by a small neck of rock. I had not noticed the thing before, as from inside the valley the slender connection was not clearly seen, and during the darkness of the night it had also escaped the notice of the miners. But Ampax had spied it in the nick of time, and as I gazed up at the thing now it looked mighty dangerous to those who stood below.
“If I can break off that mass,” said Ampax, “it will block the pass.”
Paul nodded.
“Try it,” he replied, and at once Ampax selected a dozen assistants who, laden with bars and mattocks of heavy bronze, began to climb the side of the cliff, using a path that a goat would have hesitated to attempt.
Allerton called me to him.
“Sam,” said he, “in our chest is a stick of dynamite. It is wrapped in foil and is kept in a padded box marked ‘XXD’. Run and get it, my lad, and carry it to Ampax as quickly as you can. You know how to use it.”
“Will there be time?” I inquired, anxiously.
“I think so. With our electrites and the rifles we ought to be able to drive those savages back once or twice more.”
“All right, Paul; I’m off.”
Handing my firearms to Pagatka, who ought to do some good with them, for he was an intelligent fellow, I sprinted as fast as I was able to back to our quarters. The rift in the mountain was at the south end, nearly a quarter of a mile distant from the temple enclosure; but it took a little time to unlock the chest and secure the dynamite.
Taking the precious box under my arm I hastily started to return when I came upon Ama standing with a group of her women at a point where her eyes could command the pass.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
I pointed up the mountain toward the great mass of rock that overhung the opening, explaining that only a small neck of rock held it in place and Ampax was trying to break it away so as to block up the pass. I added that in the box was a powerful explosive that would assist the miner in his task, and that we must hurry or the Itzaex would have broken through the defense before we could accomplish our object.
“The climb is what I dread,” said I; “it’s a dizzy path, and I’m not sure I can make it.”
“I will guide you,” she suddenly exclaimed. “Follow me, Samsteele!”
Turning, she ran lightly back to the temple enclosure, and after a moment’s hesitation I decided to follow her. We were not heading for the pass at all, yet Ama ought to know her own mountain better than I did.
The girl proved a swift runner and I, being already short of breath, had no easy job to keep up with her. As we dashed into the gardens surrounding Ama’s ruined pavilion the battle cry of the fierce Itzaex again resounded in our ears and we realized that another attack upon the barrier had begun.
Ama entered the big cavern in the mountain, where I had never before been. We skirted a bathing pool, fed by springs that gushed from the rocks, and quite at the rear end of the place came to a small passage. It was black as ink, but Ama took my hand and drew me after her along the passage, scarcely abating her speed as she went.
The tunnel broadened after the entrance was passed, and inclined upward, making more than one turn. The floor was smooth, and although I could not discern even the girl’s form before me, we made good progress. On and up we went, and the unusual exertion was making me pretty short of breath when a ray of light appeared ahead. Ama made another run for the top and we emerged abruptly upon the very crest of the mountain, only a few hundred feet from the rift.
The ridge was not very wide and we could look down both sides of the mountain from where we stood. There was no time for admiring the view, however, for Ama hurried me along until we came to where Ampax and his men were laboring. They had already driven a hole into the big neck of rock connecting the fragment with the mountain—it looked much bigger here than from below—but I could see it would have taken them a long time to have done the job in their own way.
From below came the wild cries of the attacking savages, mingled with the sound of firearms as our boys bravely opposed them. The Tcha uttered no sounds as they fought, but they were none the less terrible for that.
Approaching Ampax I asked him to drive a deep hole with his bar in the hollow he had already made in the neck of rock. He had no idea what I proposed doing, but Ama ordered him to obey me, and he did. The poor fellow was sweating from every pore with his exertions.
I took the dynamite from the box and carefully lowered it into the hole, attaching a fuse I had found in the parcel. It was not a very long fuse, but it must answer our purpose.
Just then the Itzaex retired for the second time, being repulsed with great loss to both sides. Mounting the big fragment I leaned over the edge and called to Paul that all was ready. At once he withdrew all the Tcha and our own boys from the barrier, making them retreat to a safe distance. The scene of conflict, as I now viewed it, was a veritable slaughter-pen, the dead and dying lying heaped in every direction. It was surely time for a diversion.
I ordered Ampax and his men to run along the ridge, and told Ama to go with them. They were slow to understand me and I could not wait long for them to get out of the way because the Itzaex were already forming for another rush. So I lighted the fuse and ran from the place so fast myself that the miners took warning and hastened after me. Seizing Ama’s arm I dragged her along the ridge until the explosion knocked us all flat upon the rocks and sent three miners flying over the precipice.
The crash that followed the detonation shook the ridge again, and then a hearty cheer went up from the exhausted Tcha who stood below in the valley. I knew then that the pass was blocked and the battle over.
CHAPTER XXVI
WE HEAR STRANGE NEWS
Paul told me afterward that the advancing Itzaex had reached the barrier and, astonished at finding no opposition, were climbing upon it in a closely packed mass when the great rock fell. The slaughter must have been terrible, for not only did the fragment completely fill the vast space but the rubble of loose rocks following it killed many on both sides. Among the victims were Datchapa and his palanquin bearers, and being now without a leader the superstitious terrors of the Itzaex, who had always feared this “sacred mountain,” influenced them to abandon further hostilities and return to their own city.
When she counted the cost of the defense, however, the brave High Priestess was in despair. Many of the noblest and best citizens had perished, and between war and earthquake the population of the valley was now reduced to a mere handful, and those mostly priests, women and children. There were enough men left, however, to cause the girl a still greater anxiety than she had yet endured, as we soon discovered.
The task of disposing of the dead was immediately undertaken by the artisans, miners and agriculturists, of whom more survived than of the higher castes. This was necessary in order to prevent a plague, and by Ama’s direction all the bodies were taken to a large cave at the north of the valley and therein deposited, after which the opening was hermetically sealed.
The Priestess sent word to Katalat to perform the burial service at the cave, but he returned no answer and appointed an inferior to attend to the obsequies. Hearing of this Ama dispatched a messenger requesting the High Priest to attend her at once; but he disregarded the order.
This conduct was so unusual, so rebellious and exasperating that the High Priestess became very angry and ordered the Waba Pagatka to seize Katalat and bring him to her presence. The Captain respectfully bowed, but said:
“I shall not be able to do that, your Highness. Strange tales have been told our people by the High Priest, and these tales have inflamed the populace against you.”
“Against me—the High Priestess of the Sun, the Supreme Ruler of the Vale of Tcha!” she exclaimed, indignantly.
“Even so, your Highness,” was the calm response.
“Then,” said Paul, who was present, “it is even more necessary than before to arrest this rebellious priest.”
Pagatka remained silent.
“Do as I command you, Waba,” said Ama.
“My men will not obey me,” he returned.
“Is the army in revolt, then?” inquired Chaka.
“All the valley is in revolt against the High Priestess,” declared Pagatka. “I am sorry,” he added; “I do not believe the tales myself; but the people all side with Katalat, and I alone am powerless.”
When asked what the tales were, the captain would not say, so finally Ama dismissed him.
Then she turned to us a white and startled face and asked if we knew anything of the matter; but of course we were as ignorant as herself. Nor were any of the priestesses wiser than their mistress. While Ama had been secluded in her palace, from whence she strove to issue orders for the disposal of the dead and the welfare of her stricken kingdom, old Katalat had taken advantage of the people’s despair and grief to rouse them to rebellion against the girl. It did not surprise us much; we had sized up this fellow correctly from the very beginning.
One of the priestesses had a brother who was an intelligent and faithful youth, and proposed sending him out to gain information as to what conspiracy was going on. Ama caught at the suggestion and the boy was sent on his mission.
He returned in little more than an hour with the information that Katalat had called a meeting of the Tcha at the theatre for that very morning, and already the citizens were flocking to the place.
“I also will go,” announced the High Priestess.
“Better not, Ama,” said Paul. “Let our party of men go instead, and return to you with news of what Katalat proposes to do.”
“No,” she returned positively; “they might prevent your return, these lawless ones. I cannot understand it at all, my friends. Ever have the Tcha been a loyal and law-abiding people until now. It is their duty to obey me, as their hereditary Supreme Ruler, descended from the first Ama who ever reigned in this valley. That Katalat should dare defy me is not so strange as that my people support him in his rebellion. Have I not done my full duty in these trying times? Can anything be justly urged against me? But even so I am supreme in the Vale of Tcha! My word is as powerful as the law itself, for it is the law.”
She was getting angry, and I did not blame her much. But it was time for us to start for the theatre, if we were to take part in the meeting that had been called, so we waited for Ama to arrange her robe of state—feminine fussiness being the same in every country—and then all followed her in a procession to the theatre, her thirty priestesses forming an imposing train in our wake.
The theatre was two-thirds full when we arrived, and I think those present represented about all the able-bodied population remaining in the valley—some four or five hundred, all told. Misfortune, desolation and ruin had told upon their iron nerves at last and deprived them of their boasted self-control, for as we entered the place only scowling faces greeted us.
On the platform, in full view of the audience, stood Katalat. At his left the aged members of the Tribunal sat in a row upon their golden bench. I think they were all surprised at the sudden entrance of the High Priestess, and the Tribunal especially became visibly agitated; but the High Priest merely cast a cold glance at the girl and thereafter ignoring her presence began an address to the people.
Ama flushed and her eyes flashed. Mounting the steps of the platform she took her stand proudly beside Katalat, reading the countenances of the people as she faced them. Our party remained in a group at one side, midway between the stage and the audience. The Virgins of the Sun sat upon the lower tier of benches, wonderingly regarding the scene.
“People of Tcha,” began the priest, “I have called you here to confer with me upon a very important matter—a matter that affects your lives and future welfare—a matter that has caused the death of hundreds of your relatives and friends and laid your fair city in ruins.”
A murmur of anger ran through the assemblage, but Katalat raised his hand and silenced it.
“Our laws are centuries old,” he resumed, “and they are so wise and just that we have always prospered in obeying them. One of our principal laws is that the legitimate daughter of the High Priestess, descended in a direct line from our first Ama, shall rule supreme in our beautiful valley.”
Every eye was now turned upon the girl, and I was puzzled to understand why the rebellious priest should have rendered her this tribute.
“Until a few weeks ago,” continued Katalat, “peace and comfort reigned in the Vale of Tcha. We were enjoying the reward of ages of honest labor and obedience to the laws of our race. Then there descended upon us these strangers.” Here his eyes flashed upon us wickedly, and another vicious demonstration broke from the crowd, which was quickly suppressed by the speaker.
“Then began our misfortunes,” said the priest. “Our mother, Ama, whom we had all revered and trusted, fell under the evil influence of these vile foreigners. She saved three of them from the sacrifice and made them all her friends, favoring them above her own subjects. They were constantly admitted to her palace, where men are not allowed except to discuss important matters of state with the Ruler. I admit that our Ama counseled with these strangers day by day, disregarding the advice of her faithful priests and her Tribunal, and so bringing countless disasters upon us. By our laws any outsiders who dare intrude upon the Tcha must be put to death; yet Ama has made them her friends and counselors. You know the result. Death and desolation for our people and honors and preference for our enemies.”
Another burst of rage greeted this tirade, but now the High Priestess stepped forward and held up her hand with a regal gesture that quelled the tumult as if by magic.
“People of Tcha,” said she in her clear voice, “you listen to lies and to evil suggestions. These strangers have defended you from harm even when you sought their death. Their power alone saved you from the Itzaex invasion; twice have they saved the life of your Ama. Shall we be ungrateful for this? Shall we let unreasoning anger make us inhuman beasts?”
“The white strangers are intruders!” cried Katalat fiercely, as if fearing the influence of her argument.
“Listen!” said the girl. “How many of you have heard your mothers say that whenever a white stranger finds a way to enter this valley he will become the saviour of our people and the master of our race? The prophecy has been handed down from generation to generation, and at last it has been fulfilled. This man,” here she pointed to Paul, “the leader of those you call intruders, but yesterday saved our race from annihilation; therein has he become our saviour.” Now she drew herself up proudly as she continued with sparkling eyes: “And he is to be my chosen husband, thus becoming the master of us all, as the prophecy saith. Citizens and subjects I call upon you all to honor this man!”
“Not so!” shouted Katalat, raising a clenched fist. “I declare that this man’s evil arts brought upon us the earthquakes. Never have we suffered such disasters until the strangers came among us, encouraging our High Priestess to disregard the laws and rob our mighty and glorious god of his rightful sacrifices.”
“I will disregard the law no longer,” said Ama, turning suddenly upon the priest. “Any disrespect to the Supreme Ruler of the Tcha is by our law severely punished. Waba Pagatka, I order you to arrest this false and rebellious priest!”
The captain glanced toward Katalat, but did not move to obey. Advancing a step the priest said in an impressive voice:
“Had the Supreme Ruler of the Tcha issued that order, the Waba Pagatka would at once execute it. But this girl is not our Supreme Ruler—she never has been!”
This assertion fairly took Ama’s breath away. It even made me gasp, and Paul’s eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets.