The Fair God; or, The Last of the 'Tzins

Providing himself with a lamp, he led the way to what seemed a kind of workshop. Upon the walls, mixed with strange banners, hung all kinds of Aztec armor; a bench stood by one of the windows, covered with tools; on the floor lay bows, arrows, and lances, of such fashion as to betray the experimentalist. The corners were decorated, if the term may be used, with effigies of warriors preserved by the process peculiar to the people. In the centre of the room, a superior attraction to Hualpa, stood a horse, which had been subjected to the same process, but was so lifelike now that he could hardly think it dead. The posture chosen for the animal was that of partial repose, its head erect, its ears thrown sharply forward, its nostrils distended, the forefeet firmly planted; so it had, in life, often stood watching the approach or disappearance of its comrades. The housings were upon it precisely as when taken from the field.

“I promised there should be war,” the ’tzin said, when he supposed Hualpa’s wonder spent, “and that the people should bring it about. Now I say, that the opinion I rely upon would ripen to-morrow, were there not a thick cloud about it. The faith that Malinche and his followers are teules has spread from the palace throughout the valley. Unless it be dispelled, Anahuac must remain the prey of the spoiler. Mualox, the keeper of the old Cû of Quetzal’, taught me long ago, that in the common mind mystery can only be assailed by mystery; and that, O comrade, is what I now propose. This nameless thing here belonged to the stranger whom I slew at Nauhtlan. Come closer, and lay your hand upon it; mount it, and you may know how its master felt the day he rode it to death. There is his lance, there his shield, here his helm and whole array; take them, and learn what little is required to make a god of a man.”

For a moment he busied himself getting the property of the unfortunate Christian together; then he stopped before the Tihuancan, saying, “Let others choose their parts, O comrade. All a warrior may do, that will I. If the Empire must die, it shall be like a fighting man,—a hero’s song for future minstrels. Help me now. We will take the trophy to the city, and set it up in the tianguez along with the shield, arms, and armor. The rotting head in the summer-house we will fix near by on the lance. To-morrow, when the traders open their stalls, and the thousands so shamelessly sold come back to their bartering and business, a mystery shall meet them which no man can look upon and afterwards believe Malinche a god. I see the scene,—the rush of the people, their surprise, their pointing fingers. I hear the eager questions, ‘What are they?’ ‘Whence came they?’ I hear the ready answer, ‘Death to the strangers!’ Then, O comrade, will begin the Opinion, by force of which, the gods willing, we shall yet hear the drum of Huitzil’. Lay hold now, and let us to the canoe with the trophies.”

“If it be heavy as it seems, good ’tzin,” said Hualpa, stooping to the wooden slab which served as the base of the effigy, “I fear we shall be overtasked.”

“It is not heavy; two children could carry it. A word more before we proceed. In what I propose there is a peril aside from the patrols in the tianguez. Malinche will hear of—”

Hualpa laughed. “Was ever a victim sacrificed before he was caught?”

“Hear further,” said the ’tzin, gravely. “I took the king to the summer-house, and showed him the head, which he will recognize. Your heart, as well as mine, may pay the forfeit. Consider.”

“Lay hold, O ’tzin! Did you not but now call me comrade? Lay hold!”

Thereupon they carried the once good steed out to the landing. Then the ’tzin went to the kiosk for the Spaniard’s head, while Hualpa returned to the palace for the arms and equipments. The head, wrapped in a cloth, was dropped in the bow of the boat, and the horse and trappings carried on board. Trusting in the gods, the voyageurs pushed off, and were landed, without interruption, near the great tianguez.

CHAPTER II

A MESSAGE FROM THE GODS

“It is done!” said the ’tzin, in a whisper. “It is done! One more service, O comrade, if—”

“Do not spare me, good ’tzin. I am happiest when serving you.”

“Then stay in the city to-night, and be here early after the discovery. Take part with the crowd, and, if opportunity offer, direct it. I must return to my exile. Report when all is over. The gods keep you! Farewell.”

Hualpa, familiar with the square, went to the portico of the Chalcan; and as the lamps were out, and the curtains of the door drawn for the night, with the privilege of an habitué he stretched himself upon one of the lounges, and, lulled by the fountain, fell asleep.

A shout awoke him. He looked out to see the day breaking in gloom. The old sky of blue, in which the summer had so long and lovingly nestled, was turned to lead; the smoke seemed to have fallen from the temples, and, burdening the atmosphere, was driving along slowly and heavily, like something belonging to the vanishing night. Another cry louder than the first; then the door, or, rather, the screen, behind him was opened, and the Chalcan himself came forth.

“Ah, son of my friend!—Hark! Some maudlin fellow hallooes. The fool would like to end his sleep, hard enough out there, in the temple. But you,—where have you been?”

“Here, good Xoli, on this lounge.”

“The night? Ah! the pulque was too much for you. For your father’s sake, boy, I give you advice: To be perfectly happy in Tenochtitlan, it is necessary to remember, first, how the judges punish drunkenness; next, that there is no pure liquor in the city except in the king’s jars, and—There, the shout again! two of them! a third!”

And the broker also looked out of the portico.

“Holy gods, what a smoke! There go some sober citizens, neighbors of mine,—and running. Something of interest! Come, Hualpa, let us go also. The times are wonderful. You know there are gods in Tenochtitlan besides those we worship. Come!”

“I am hungry.”

“I will feed you to bursting when we get back. Come on.”

As they left the portico, people were hastening to the centre of the square, where the outcry was now continuous and growing.

“Room for the Chalcan!” said a citizen, already on the ground. “Let him see what is here fallen from the clouds.”

Great was the astonishment of the broker when his eyes first rested on the stately figure of the horse, and the terrible head on the lance above it. Hualpa affected the same feeling, but, having a part to play, shouted, as in alarm,—

“It is one of the fighting beasts of Malinche! Beware, O citizens! Your lives may be in danger.”

The crowd, easily persuaded, fell back.

“Let us get arms!” shouted one.

“Arms! Get arms!” then rose, in full chorus.

Hualpa ventured nearer, and cried out, “The beast is dead!”

“Keep off, boy!” said Xoli, himself at a respectable distance. “Trust it not; such things do not die.”

Never speech more opportune for the Tihuancan.

“Be it of the earth or Sun, I tell you, friends, it is dead,” he replied, more loudly. “Who knows but that the holy Huitzil’ has set it up here to be seen of all of us, that we may know Malinche is not a god. Is there one among you who has a javelin?”

A weapon was passed to him over the heads of the fast increasing crowd.

“Stand aside! I will see.”

Without more ado, the adventurer thrust deep in the horse’s flank. Those directly about held their breath from fear; and when the brute stirred not, they looked at each other, not knowing what to say. That it was dead, was past doubt.

“Who will gainsay me now?” continued Hualpa. “It is dead, and so is he to whom yon head belonged. Gods fall not so low.”

It was one of those moments when simple minds are easily converted to any belief.

“Gods they are not,” said a voice in the throng; “but whence came they?”

“And who put them here?” asked another.

Hualpa answered swiftly,—

“Well said! The gods speak not directly to those whom they would admonish or favor. And if this be the handiwork of Huitzil’,—and what more likely?—should we not inquire if it have a meaning? It may be a message. Is there a reader of pictures among you, friends?”

“Here is one!”

“Let him come! Make way for him!”

A citizen, from his dress a merchant, was pushed forward.

“What experience have you?”

“I studied in the calmecac!”[45 - The University.]

The man raised his eyes to the head on the lance, and they became transfixed with horror.

“Look, then, to what we have here, and, saying it is a message from the holy Huitzil’, read it for us. Speak out, that all may hear.”