All of the central space was devoted to agriculture, and except for a few public buildings only granaries and storehouses were built there. Yet it was all as elaborately laid out as a public park, and the soil must have been wonderfully fertile.
One or two natural brooks that flowed through the place fed several canals used for irrigation and boating; and although the Vale of Tcha was really extensive, without an inch of waste space, it was so hemmed in by the mountain that it looked like a toy kingdom.
Escorted by the officer we traversed paths bordered with gay flowers which led through the pasture lands and grain fields, making indirectly toward a large enclosure near the north end of the valley. I could not imagine what this place was, at first, but saw many white-robed figures flocking to it from various parts of the town. When we drew nearer it resolved itself into a great outdoor hall, built much like the ancient Greek theatres, although it was probably much older than the Greek nation.
All unguarded we followed our conductor to the entrance of this theatre. There was no possible chance to escape. While we were in the Vale of Tcha and unarmed we were virtually in a prison, with ten thousand native inhabitants for jailors.
The theatre, or rather assembly hall, was built so that a small stage or platform faced row after row of circular marble seats which rose in tiers, one slightly elevated above another, until the highest tier was some sixty feet above the ground. As we were led in I noticed that the seats were nearly filled with men, women and children. All wore the staple white toga, often over finer garments which fitted the body loosely and were more or less embroidered and decorated according to the fancy or the station of the wearer. Sometimes these togas were solid white throughout, but more usually there was a plain or figured band of a different color around the hem and the neck. The women affected wider borders and more color on their garments than the men.
Every inhabitant of Tcha, male or female, had red hair. There were many shades from deep auburn to brick red; but it was all undeniably red. Eyes, too, were invariably blue, being likewise of many graduations of shade, from dark violet to light watery azure. The complexions of the people, as I have said, were dazzingly fair, with few freckles, and this despite the warm latitude in which they lived. However, I never knew it uncomfortably warm in Tcha.
Having remarked upon the fine physique of the men of Tcha, I may as well state here that their women were the handsomest females I have ever seen. It would not have been possible to find an unattractive maid or matron in the hidden city. They were, as a rule, tall and slight, exceedingly graceful and free of carriage and of extraordinary facial beauty. Cheery and bright they seemed but neither talkative nor frivolous. Modest and unassuming at all times they yet maintained an air of stately pride that won and retained the respect and deference of the opposite sex. In Tcha the women were considered the equal of men in all ways, and their superiors in many.
A more reserved and unexcitable race has never existed. In the assemblage we faced there was no disorder of any sort. Even the children restrained any evidence of feeling. Inimical, powerfully opposed to the strangers who had intruded upon them we felt them to be; yet no jeers nor insults came from the throng, which represented the rank and file of the populace.
The officer lined us up facing the low platform, upon which sat a group of three aged men. Their beards—many wore beards in this valley—were snow white, and their heads were bald. They were not wrinkled nor decrepit, but carried themselves erect and proudly.
Of course I knew this was the powerful Tribunal which was to decide our fate, and so I examined their faces with interest. Their eyes, which returned our gaze, were mild and calm in expression. There was no sign of hatred, antagonism or cruelty in those placid countenances. Somehow I took heart as I read the faces of the Tribune, and felt relieved that we had been brought before them for judgment.
All others in that vast throng were commoners: the three aged members of the Tribunal alone possessed authority. We knew nothing as yet of the political constitution of the people, but this conclusion was self evident.
The officer knelt and removed his casque.
“Here, Fathers, are the strangers,” he said.
One of the three addressed us.
“Who speaks for you, strangers?” he inquired.
Allerton stepped forward and bowed respectfully. The three aged heads bent to acknowledge the salutation.
“It is well,” said another. “We desire to question you, sir, and trust you will answer us truly. Why are you here?”
“We came,” said Paul, using the expressive Maya language, which seemed to be spoken in the valley, “merely from curiosity. We are experienced travelers, from a country afar off, and we wished to see your valley, to meet your people and to make you our friends.”
The third Tribune spoke. “How came you to know that the Vale of Tcha exists?” he asked.
Allerton hesitated, not knowing how to answer. He tried to choose his words with great care, for words meant lives at this crisis.
There was no impatience displayed by the Tribune, yet our leader’s very hesitation was against us. It was a fair question, from their standpoint, but the most difficult one Paul could have been called upon to answer. He must at all hazards protect his friend and “brother”.
But Chaka showed his mettle then. He advanced a pace and standing beside Allerton he said in a clear voice that could be heard by all:
“It was I who told him of the hidden Vale of Tcha.”
The three graybeards examined the speaker carefully.
“You are an Itzaex,” said one.
“I am Chaka Atkayma, the child of the gods and the hereditary ruler of my people,” was the proud assertion. Chaka was superb when he assumed this mood.
“And how came you to know of the Vale of Tcha?” was the next question.
“My father, the great Tcheltzada Atkayma, told me.”
The members of the Tribunal exchanged glances of intelligence.
“Did he ask you to keep the information secret, to use it only to prevent your people from coming too near to the mountain of Aota?”
“He did,” said Chaka. “But I related the story to my brother Paul, whom I love as myself. When he became eager to visit your city I offered to guide him.”
The graybeards nodded. They felt they were now getting the plain, unvarnished truth.
“Did you not realize the penalty of your act; the fate sure to overtake you if you succeeded in coming among the people of Tcha?”
Allerton had recovered his wits by now, and strove to shield his friend.
“He did, your Highness, and warned my comrades and me. But we paid little heed to his protests. Why should we be unwelcome in Tcha? We come not as enemies but as friends. We are few in numbers; the Tcha are thousands. In no other country of the great wide world are peaceful strangers forbidden the hospitality of the people.”
I thought this was a hard hit, and a corking good argument; but the three bald heads did not seem impressed by it. One of them replied:
“The Tcha have the right to make their own laws, and to protect themselves from intrusion. For thousands of years we have been sufficient to ourselves, ignoring the outer world from whence you came. We have forbidden strangers to come among us. Through the Tcheltzada Atkayma of the Itzaex we warned all men to keep away from our domain, under penalty of death. You have disregarded our warning; you have disobeyed our laws. Therefore you must submit to the punishment your folly has brought upon you.”
Pleasant prospect, wasn’t it? Chaka said, in a firm voice:
“I alone, your Highness, deserve punishment. It was my disobedience of your commands that permitted these people to come to the Vale of Tcha. I claim at your hands full punishment for my fault, and the release of my innocent friends.”
“Not so!” cried Allerton, quickly. “It was I who, learning of your hidden city, persuaded Chaka Atkayma to guide me here. It was I who induced these comrades to accompany us. The fault is mine, your Highness. I alone deserve the death penalty.”
For an impressive moment the three members of the aged Tribunal gazed full into the faces of these strange contestants for the honor of death. Then they deliberately rose, walked around the bench where they had been seated and sat down in a row with their backs toward us and the assemblage.
At this every head in the audience was bowed low, as if in prayer. Absolute silence reigned. Not even the rustle of a garment was to be heard.
The Tribunal was deciding our fate.
I own that I felt desperately uneasy and weak-kneed. The gentleness of demeanor of the old men and the quiet repression of the populace should have been reassuring; but somehow the chills would run up and down my back in spite of me. Chaka and Paul turned and embraced one another with mutual love and gratitude, after which they stood proudly erect and awaited their fate. As for the rest of us, fearful as we were we failed to show the white feather. Cowardice at such a time would be strangely out of place; because, perhaps, it was so unavailing. Unless it may prove profitable, cowardice is the rankest folly.
After a brief consultation the members of the Tribune came back to their first position, facing us. Their gaze was as calm and inscrutable as before. Then one of them rose to his feet and addressed the assemblage.
“The strangers are all condemned to death,” said he, quietly. “The laws of our fathers, the founders of the Vale and City of Tcha, must be obeyed. Once we pardoned an atkayma of the Itzaex and sent him back to his people, that through fear and in self-protection he might preserve us from further molestation or intrusion. That was deemed a wise action at the time, but it is not necessary for us to spare the atkayma’s son, who stands before us. For, thinking the young man had perished, Tcheltzada confided our secret to his brother Datchapa, an old and wise Itzaex who will now rule his people and is too cautions to disobey our commands.”
I wondered how he knew all this, and if old Datchapa had really survived his tumble down the side of the pyramid. When the speaker sat down another Tribune rose, saying:
“As our laws provide, in such cases, the civil government of Tcha, which we the Tribune represents, is powerless to do more than condemn strangers who intrude upon our domain. The prisoners must now be turned over to her Supreme Highness the High Priestess of the Sun,” (here Tribunal and people all bowed their heads humbly) “that they may be used for the sacrifice, if found fit, or otherwise destroyed. This is our decree, the decree of the Tribunal of Tcha, from which there is no appeal.”
Here the third judge arose.
“The prisoners must be taken to the Holy Temple at once and delivered to the representatives of her Supreme Highness, the hereditary High Priestess of the Sun. And may the god approve us and shed his blessings upon us, now as heretofore.”
Well, it was all over, and we had no chance to demur or make any protest. The members of the Tribune gathered their robes about them and walked away, and then the tiers of seats began to empty, without haste and in an orderly, circumspect manner.
Curious looks were cast at us, but I could read neither pity nor abhorrence in any countenance. We were wholly outside the lives of this strange race, and they accepted our fate as a matter of course.
The officer who had brought us here now turned and said:
“You have been tried and judged, strangers. You have heard the verdict of the just Tribunal. Follow me.”
Of course we tagged along after him; there was nothing else to be done. We now headed straight for the city, and that especial part of it situated at the south end of the valley. The people, returning to their dwellings, avoided interfering with us. While within earshot they did not discuss us or our unhappy destiny. Through centuries they have been taught consideration for others, nor did they forget the lesson even in their conduct toward strangers and condemned criminals.
Our glimpses of the residences we passed filled us with wonder and admiration. Highly polished marble, ornate and artistic carvings, exquisite tropical shrubbery, closely mowed lawns, fountains, cornices and ornaments of wrought gold were everywhere visible. The approaches to some of the finer dwellings were paved with layers of golden sheets, riveted together and in some instances bordered with fine rubies and other gems. Gold seemed the most abundant metal the Tcha possessed, and they had a secret way of hardening it that rendered it as durable as steel, without impairing its beauty.
Approaching nearer and nearer to the south wall of the mountain enclosing the valley, we at last reached the most impressive and extensive building of all—the Temple of the Sun. Ample grounds surrounded the huge, majestic pile, enclosed by marble walls ten feet in height, which were supplemented by a six-foot ornamental railing of elaborately worked gold. The entrance gates were likewise of gold, and bore in the center of each a highly polished representation of the sun shedding its rays in every direction.
News of our coming had evidently preceded us, for the great gates at once swung inward to receive us and a group of tall priests, most of them advanced in years, stood ready to admit the devoted band of prisoners to the sacred precincts. The official did not pass the gates. He reverently removed his casque and said:
“Holy fathers, to your keeping I confide the condemned. They now belong to our mother, the divine and adorable High Priestess of our god, the Sun.” Then, turning to us he continued in an earnest tone: “Destiny directs all human life. You are brave men, strangers, and are prepared to well fulfill the decree of Destiny. Being on the threshold of the great Hereafter, I give you greetings and good wishes. May your journey be peaceful and swift.”
Without awaiting our thanks for this doleful farewell he turned and departed, while with small ado we were marched through the gates and allowed to hear them swing shut behind us, the ring of their golden bars sounding like a knell in my ears. According to the best calculations of the Tcha we were never to pass this barrier again, either alive or dead.
Directly facing the gates was the great temple, entered by a broad flight of steps and composed of four walls, roofless and open to the rays of the Sun. Entirely separated from this main building were two others of smaller dimensions but much more elaborate. That at the right had a separate enclosure and was connected with the temple by a peristyle; the other, toward which we were directed, stood alone.
This, we found, was the palace of the High Priest and the residence of the numerous priests of the sun. The leaders of the reception committee were diverse. One was a wild-eyed, ascetic looking fellow who glared at us but kept silent; the other proved a kindly-faced man who treated us with marked respect.
After giving us a cool and refreshing beverage to drink—it reminded me of lemonade—we were taken to the presence of the High Priest, a doddering, withered old individual who seemed to have lived far beyond his allotted time and was drowsing contentedly when we disturbed him. He woke up to stare at us a moment, then waved us away, saying to our escort:
“They belong to the great god, the Sun. Cherish them; treat them tenderly, as befits those to be prepared for the sacrifice.”
At the moment we were inclined to resent this. None of us, I am sure, had any desire to become a sacrificial offering. But as we left the High Priest, who had fallen asleep again even before he had finished speaking, Chaka congratulated us on our good fortune.
“Had we been deemed unworthy of their great god,” he explained in English, “they would have killed us at sundown to-night, murdering us in cold blood and tossing our carcasses to the beasts. Sacrificial offerings are reserved for special occasions and are often prepared for weeks in advance, being cherished and fattened that they may become the more acceptable to the god. Therefore this order means we shall gain time to plan an escape. That may not be impossible, my friends, after all; and, in any event, time has its value.”
Afterward the atkayma told us that had not the High Priest been in his dotage he assuredly would not have accepted our blacks for sacrifice. The Mexican might pass, perhaps, as his skin was not unlike the color of that of the Itzaex; but the Sun-god might not like black sacrifices. The event, however, proved that Chaka was wrong in this conclusion.
We were now treated with great respect by the priests, even the wild-eyed one being willing to “cherish” the victims. Having been formally dedicated to their god our persons were sacred and our comfort and welfare the objects of much solicitude. If one of us expressed a desire it was at once granted, and we were surrounded by every luxury the luxurious palace afforded. In effect we became autocrats, commanding the priests at will. One thing only was denied us—permission to leave the temple enclosure.
For four dreary days we lived this sybaritic life; they were dreary because we had little to do but to eat and sleep and take life easy. Of course we talked over our delicate position and sought to evolve some plan of escape, but without the precious outfit that had been taken from us we were practically helpless.
All the Vale of Tcha was under the supreme rule of the High Priestess of the Sun, an hereditary title that had been handed down from mother to daughter for thousands of years—how many thousands we as yet were unable to learn. The High Priestess was attended by fifty Virgins between the ages of fifteen and thirty. Having served to the latter age they were released, sent back to their homes and permitted to marry. The daughters of these original Virgins of the Sun were entitled to succeed their mothers, in time; if there were not enough of them choice was made of young girls from the noblest families of the nation.
Next in rank came the High Priest, who was supported by fifty priests. These last, however, held their positions for life, and their ranks were filled from time to time by the most intelligent and deserving of the young men of Tcha. But so arduous were the duties of the priesthood that there was no time to fuss over civil affairs and the administration of the laws; so a Tribunal was selected by the High Priestess, the members of which served during their natural lives, directing all the minor affairs of the nation.
The Tcha believed but in one god, the Sun, from whence they considered they derived all the good things of life. They were communists to an extent, although divided into castes. The manufacturers’ guild was the most important of all, after the priesthood and the nobility, the latter being a luxurious class consisting of relatives of the priestesses and their subsequent children, but who constituted the scientific and literary class as well. The manufacturers’ guild included goldsmiths, weavers, millers and bakers, and all those who produced goods or wares from raw material. Next came the agriculturists, then the miners, and finally the builders.
Every inhabitant of the Vale of Tcha belonged to one or another of them castes and was supposed to keep busy, a drone being despised by all. Everything produced went into the public warehouses and from there was distributed to each family according to its requirements.
On the afternoon of the fourth day of our imprisonment a message came to us that the High Priestess desired to see the “sacrificial devotees.” The priests at once bustled about and brought us fresh togas and our white duck suits, which we wore under the robes. We were washed and brushed like schoolboys and given endless advice as to our conduct in the presence of “the Divine and Supreme Ama”.
“Ama” meant in the Maya tongue “mother”. If the High Priestess had any other name we never heard it.
When we had been properly fixed up and inspected by the wild-eyed one, who had authority under the senile High Priest, we were ushered past the great temple to the gates of the enclosure beyond. Here the priests turned us over to the care of six beautiful damsels whose tunics bore the device of the flaming sun. They were in no way embarrassed by the care of nine men of a strange race. Indeed, they regarded us impersonally as sacrifices intended in the near future to propitiate their god.
Demurely they led us along flower-bordered walks; into the main entrance of the magnificent palace of the Priestesses, through a lofty hall and out by a rear entrance, down a long pergola shaded by climbing roses, past a garden resplendent with rare and gorgeous blooms, and finally into a roomy pavilion that stood almost at the edge of the cliff that towered above the city.
The pillars, roof and floor of the pavilion were of pure white marble. In the center was a fountain that sent its cooling sprays far into the air. Beyond the fountain we found the floor strewn with exquisite rugs and downy cushions while in the rear of this spacious retreat was a golden divan upon which reclined the High Priestess, Supreme Ruler of the Vale of Tcha.
How shall I describe Ama to you? Shall I say she was the embodiment of grace and beauty, that her figure was tall and supple, her hair a golden bronze, her eyes turquoise and her lips budded like a rose? All that seems stale and flat in depicting Ama.
To our amazement this redoubtable High Priestess, in whose hands reposed all power, was a mere child, scarcely more than seventeen years of age.
No daintier, fairer, sweeter girl could be imagined. Reared from the cradle to occupy this exalted position, she was a real queen, regal alike in bearing, in natural attributes, in education and in person. Never had she known a wish unfulfilled, never a command thwarted. She had succeeded her mother at twelve years of age, and her omnipotence among the Tcha was accepted by the girl without a thought that she owed all to the accident of birth.
As we stood before her the mighty priestess sat up and examined us with undisguised interest. First she deliberately stared at Paul, until his eyes fell and a deep blush suffused his face. Then Chaka was observed, with evidences of lively approval. Indeed, the youthful atkayma looked very handsome in his haughty, dignified pose, and his brown eyes met those of Ama quite frankly. When she turned to me I bowed and smiled. She was only a girl; why should I fear her? Yet for some reason we had all forgotten entirely our instructions to prostrate ourselves most humbly before the Supreme Ruler. We felt more like treating her as we would an American girl.
One by one she silently scrutinized us all. Then, lying back on her cushions, she waved her hands and said:
“Be seated, thou consecrated ones, thou who art sacred to our Lord the Sun. Let us converse together,” she added, graciously.
We squatted on the rugs, arranging ourselves as comfortably as possible, and the attendant Virgins followed suit. When we were seated Ama said:
“Are you contented? Have you any request to make?”
“One, your Highness,” ventured Paul, earnestly.
“Speak, then.”
“Your god,” said he, “is not the God of our fathers. We do not wish to be sacrificed to a strange god. Coming as friends and without evil intent to your country, we have been deprived of our liberty and consecrated to a god we do not worship. The action of the Tcha has been unjust and unkind. We desire to be set free and allowed to return to our own people.”
Ama seemed disturbed by this statement. She sat up again, resting an elbow upon her knee and her chin upon the palm of her hand, listening carefully.
“Alas,” she said in reply, “your protest comes all too late. The decree has passed the Tribunal. The High Priest has accepted you as worthy sacrifices. Already are you consecrated to the Divine Sun, whose majesty would be outraged if robbed of his offerings.”
“Haven’t we anything to say about our own fate?” I asked indignantly.
“Oh, no, indeed!” she responded, smiling bewitchingly. “When one breaks the laws of a country he loses his individual right to direct his fate. Is it not so in the land from whence you came?”
“How are outsiders to know your laws, when you seclude yourselves from all the rest of mankind?” inquired Joe.
“If we seclude ourselves, it is evidence we do not desire intrusion,” she answered.
We began to admit to ourselves it would not be easy to influence this fair young girl. She had been taught to conserve the traditions of her people; her ethics of law were fairly sound.
For a time she appeared to be absorbed in thought. Then she said abruptly:
“Tell me of your own country. You differ from and are superior to others who, at times, have come here to disturb us. Most of them, I am told, for it was all before my time, were found to be unworthy to be dedicated to the sacrifice. But you, it seems, have learned to fly as the birds fly, and you bear strange and death-dealing weapons. You clothe yourselves with many hitherto unknown devices, and in your chests are many things the use of which we are ignorant.”
This speech gave Allerton an idea.
“The countries of the outside world,” he answered, “are of vast extent and throng with millions of people. These teach to one another the knowledge they acquire and the scientific discoveries they make. Therefore they progress much more rapidly than any secluded people, such as the Tcha, can hope to do. Forgive me for saying it, your Highness, but your people are ignorant of many things. They are far behind other nations in arts, sciences and inventions, and very insignificant when compared with the people from whom we came.”
“In other words,” I explained, “you are way behind the procession, Ama—chasing the times, so to speak.”
She listened, and regarded us thoughtfully.
“The Tcha is the greatest nation in all the world!” she declared, with queenly pride.
“It is far from that, your Highness,” replied Allerton. “If you ventured outside this puny circle of rocks your nation would soon be swallowed up by the great world and practically annihilated. Because we are nine helpless travelers you seize and destroy us. In the outside world your entire population would appear meaner and more helpless than we nine are among you here.”
She suddenly sprang up with flashing eyes and stamped her foot angrily upon the rug, like a pettish school-girl.
“How dare you come here and lie to me?” she cried with spirit. “How dare you malign my people, the mighty Tcha, to their Supreme Ruler, the Priestess of the Sun? Begone, outcasts that you are! begone and leave me to forget the shame you have thrust upon me!”
We went away, of course. There wasn’t time to argue the proposition, and I feared Paul had made a sad mistake. Archie was sorry, too, for I had noticed he was holding the hand of a pretty priestess who sat next him.
But there was a satisfied look on Allerton’s face, and as the Virgins thrust us out of their enclosure into the arms of the priests awaiting us he said in English:
“That shot told, all right, and soon she will want to know more about the outside world. Don’t be despondent, boys; I’ve an idea we may win out yet.”
That Paul was correct in his conclusion was proven the very next day. Again the High Priestess sent for us, but asked that the blacks, Ned and Pedro be left behind. We objected to this, declaring we must all come, or none at all, and to our surprise she withdrew her exceptions and commanded us all to attend her.
This time she received us in the open air, in a large area directly beneath the overhanging cliff, which was covered with a network of climbing vines to relieve its ruggedness and hide the protruding points of rock. It was almost a perpendicular wall, at this place, and I saw the mouth of a cavern that has a well worn path leading into it. Doubtless the mountain was honeycombed with caves and recesses, some being natural and many others artificial.
Close to the cliff stood a throne-like seat cut from a solid block of rock. It was well lined with cushions, however, amongst which sat the girlish High Priestess, even more charming and lovely than when we had first seen her. The ground before the throne was strewn with rugs, upon which sat not only many of the Virgins of the Sun, but a large gathering of the people of Tcha, evidently culled from the most cultured and important among them. I recognized the three aged members of the Tribunal, who occupied a position near the Priestess, and the doddering old High Priest, who had already fallen asleep among his cushions. But no one, however important, was allowed a raised seat in the presence of the Supreme Ruler of Tcha.
One of the girls who acted as Master of Ceremonies assigned us our places. Chaka was led to the right of the throne; Paul was placed somewhat to the left. Joe, Archie and I were seated about midway in the audience, while the others of our party were consigned to the very rear.
I understood readily enough the meaning of this assemblage. Ama was going to make Paul prove his statement that the Tcha was a mean and insignificant race, and she had invited her most prominent people to support her in the argument.
So it proved. With much dignity but in simple words she repeated the assertion made to her the day before. Then she turned to Paul and regarding him with steady eyes she asked:
“What nation, in the world you know so well, is more ancient than that of the Tcha?”
He smiled, bowing low before her.
“I do not know how old the Tcha may be,” he said.
She motioned to an important looking fellow who rose and answered:
“The Tcha nation has existed seven thousand, four hundred and nineteen years, each year being composed of three hundred and sixty five days.”[3]
“Then,” said Allerton, readily, “I am sure you lead all nations in point of age. But have you existed in this mountain hollow all that time?”
“No. Our race came from Atlantis four thousand and eighty-five years ago, and established itself here and at the north. The cities erected elsewhere were in time all destroyed. Only this branch of the Tcha, owing to our methods of seclusion and our wise laws, exists to this day.”
Allerton bowed in acknowledgment and turned to Ama again.
“Has any other race you know been able to harness the electric currents of nature, and make them furnish power and light?” she demanded.
“These things are common throughout the world,” said he.
The Tcha exchanged looks of wonderment, and some shook their heads doubtingly. Finally one arose and said:
“The records which we have preserved show that when we brought our knowledge of electricity from Atlantis, the savage inhabitants of this continent were wholly ignorant of it. They had even no chariots to run by electricity. The records prove this.”
“Then,” spoke Paul, “you are entitled to precedence in this matter, as well. Such things the world is well acquainted with to-day, and we have many uses for electricity which you, perhaps, have never yet dreamed of; but they have all been discovered within the last fifty years.”
This admission seemed to please the Tcha. Ama, who took a deep interest in the discussion, said:
“Tell me, then; what electric devices are in use by your people that we know not of?”
“By means of a wire,” he replied, “I, at one end of this valley, can talk with a person at the other end, who will hear me distinctly, although I do not raise my voice. Again, I can point a tube at one standing a hundred paces away, and render him as one dead; yet he will recover in a short space of time. Still again, I am able to—”
I sprang to my feet, crying aloud in fear and horror.
“Look out—for God’s sake!” and pointed upward.
For, gazing casually at the cliff overhead, I had seen a large rock slowly detach itself from the wall and hang trembling just above Ama’s throne, as it held in place only by the clinging vines above it.
Many an eye followed my direction and although I had spoken in English they all understood the terrible danger that threatened their Priestess. Yet not a soul moved; abject horror seemed to have paralyzed them. Ama alone was unconscious of her impending death and stared wonderingly at the startled faces before her.
Suddenly Paul gave a leap and bounded straight for the throne. Swift as an arrow he flew and caught the girl in his arms. At the same time the huge rock broke away and came hurtling to the ground. Paul saw it, and, acting instinctively, exerted all his strength and threw the girl bodily from him. Chaka, rushing forward, caught her just as the crash came and the great mass—I think it must have weighed two tons—fell full upon the throne of the High Priestess.
Trying to stifle the sob that rose in my throat I dashed to the spot, knowing that my dear friend—I had come to be very fond of Allerton—was buried beneath that massive fragment. His had been a noble deed, I fully realized, but it seemed so hard to have him crushed and mangled, to have him swept suddenly from life, for the sake of a paltry Tcha girl, Supreme Ruler though she might be.
The people had awakened now and were clustering anxiously around their Priestess, who lay half fainting in Chaka’s arms. The young atkayma did not look at her; he stared straight ahead at the spot where his “brother Paul” lay buried.
“Here! Lend a hand!” I shouted, first in English and then in Maya. Nux and Bryonia, Ned, Pedro, Archie and Joe were all with me by that time. The great rock had split half over the throne, and one fragment—that which lay above Paul—rested with its edge partly supported by the arm of the seat.
We seized it and pulled all together, trying to pry it upward. Several of the Tchas now came to our assistance, and in desperation we tugged again, this time succeeding in forcing the fragment backward. Then Joe stooped down and drew Paul out, handing his bruised and bleeding form to Nux, who held it tenderly in his strong arms as a mother might cuddle a child.
Chaka, having resigned his burden, came to us with features drawn and tense with agony. The poor fellow did not sob nor weep; he merely leaned over and kissed his friend’s forehead. Then without awaiting permission we all retired, following Nux and his burden back to our luxurious rooms in the priests’ palace.
We laid Allerton tenderly on a couch and cut away his clothing. Bry was a very expert surgeon, of the uneducated but intelligent sort, having had a lot of practical experience with wounds and bruises in his day. He now assumed command of the situation.
With his ear to the injured man’s heart the black gave a grunt of satisfaction and then turned to take the water I had brought in a basin to wash away the blood stains.
My own heart was thumping like a trip hammer.
“Will he live, Bry?” I asked, breathlessly.
“Can’t say Mars’ Sam,” was the reply. “But he’s alive now, shore ’nuf!”
Allerton said that he seemed to live an hour during the time the rock was falling. He saw plainly that he could not save both himself and Ama, so he threw the girl to Chaka and at the same time tripped and fell to the ground just beside the throne. That trip alone saved him, as the fragment that broke from the main portion struck in such a way that a small space was left, in which his body lay. He was considerably bruised and cut, but with the exception of two broken ribs and a sprained arm escaped any other important injury. We had him sitting up in an hour, and under Bry’s skillful manipulation, assisted by a Tcha priest who was fairly proficient in surgery, his broken ribs quickly mended. But the shock to his nervous system had been severe and Paul became an interesting invalid for several days after the accident.
Being an ancient people, the Tcha have a code of laws that seems to cover every possible happening; but some of them, perhaps evolved centuries ago, are quite extraordinary. One law declares that if any person performs an exceptional service for the High Priestess, such as “preserving her life or preventing her from suffering physical injury,” he shall become immune from any punishment he may have incurred by any previous act, and all edicts against him shall be annulled.
The Tribunal was aware of this law and promptly acted upon it; but the august body, during its conference, encountered a puzzling and unexampled difficulty. Who had saved the life of the High Priestess? Either it was Paul, who had removed Ama from beneath the falling stone, or Chaka, who had caught her and carried her to a safe distance, or myself, whose cry had called attention to her danger.
To my mind Paul alone had accomplished the salvation of the Supreme Ruler; but the aged Tribunal could not see it exactly in that light. They argued the case among themselves until they were in despair of being able to settle it conclusively. One voted for me, one for Chaka and one for Paul, and being very conscientious and eminently just none would alter his decision. So the matter was laid before the High Priest, as provided for by law when the Tribunal could not agree. As usual the old sleepyhead revoked; he said he didn’t know and didn’t care who had saved Ama; it was sufficient for him that she had been saved; let the High Priestess herself solve the knotty problem. And then he fell asleep again.
Therefore the case came to Ama herself for solution, and she appeared as perplexed as the others. Finally she took it under advisement and said she would come to a decision some day in the near future.
I am sure the incident considerably improved our standing in the community. It must have humiliated the Tcha, who are really brave and energetic, that they all sat in paralyzed terror while the condemned strangers saved their High Priestess from sudden death. A careful investigation was now made of the cliff to see if any more stones were loose, on the principle of locking the barn door after the horse is stolen; but no one was ever accused of negligence for not having inspected the cliff before. Occasionally a rock had been known to drop into the valley, but it was a rare occurrence and seldom did much harm. The Tcha considered this accident a mere fatality, and therefore unavoidable.
The sensations of the lovely and sedate Ama when seized and hurled about like a ball were not subject to popular discussion. For a day or two following we heard indirectly that the girl was nervous and unstrung, as well she might be; but on the third day she sent for Paul, Chaka and me, and thanked us all very prettily and impartially.
The public argument over the merits and discoveries of our respective civilizations was now abandoned for good. But Ama had us frequently brought to her pavilion, where she questioned us closely and seemed greatly interested in our personal history and home life. All subjects interested her: politics, geography and inventions most of all. On one occasion Paul asked for our chests.
“If we had them here,” said he, “I could furnish you and your attendants with much amusement, and prove to you many things that are difficult to explain in words.”
She considered this request, and when we were next called to an interview with her Highness we found the four chests standing in a row before her couch. They had all been broken open and the contents rummaged, but not a single article had been removed or injured in any way—except that the extra gas-jacket and inflatable coverings for the chests had been abstracted. Our electrites, the use of which they shrewdly suspected, and all of our gas-jackets and firearms were withheld from us.