"No," he answered, "it would not be possible without wings. There is a way through it. Twice in the old days bodies of white men searching for the Golden City to sack it, came to this spot, but, finding no path through the cliff, they went home again, though their hands were on the door."
"Does the wall of rock encircle all the valley of the city?" asked the señor.
"No, White Man, it ends many days' journey away to the west, but he who would travel round it must wade through a great swamp. Also the mountains may be crossed to the east by journeying for three days through snows and down precipices; but so far as I have learned only one man lived to pass them, a wandering Indian, who found his way to the banks of the Holy Waters in the days of my grandfather. Now, stay here while I search."
"Are you glad to see the gateway of your home, Maya?" asked the señor.
"No," she answered, almost fiercely, "for here in the wilderness I have been happy, but there sorrow awaits me and you. Oh! if indeed I am dear to you, let us turn even now and fly together back to the lands where your people live," and she clasped his hand and looked earnestly into his eyes.
"What," he answered, "and leave your father and Ignatio to finish the journey by themselves?"
"You are more to me than my father, though perhaps the solemn Ignatio is more to you than I am."
"No, Maya, but having come so far I wish to see the sacred city."
"As you will," she said, letting fall his hand. "See, my father has found the place and calls us."
We walked on for about a hundred paces, threading our path through piles of boulders that lay at the foot of the precipice till we came to where Zibalbay stood, leaning against the wall of rock in which we could see no break or opening.
"Although I trust you, and, as I believe, heaven has brought us together for its own purposes," said the old cacique, "yet I must follow the ancient custom and obey my oath to suffer no stranger to see the entrance to this mountain gate. Come hither, daughter, and blindfold these foreigners."
She obeyed, and as she tied the handkerchief about the señor's face I heard her whisper,
"Fear not, I will be your eyes."
Then we were taken by the hand, and led this way and that till we were confused. After we had walked some paces, we were halted and left while, as we judged from the sounds, our guides moved something heavy. Next we were conducted down a steep incline, through a passage so narrow and low that our shoulders rubbed the sides of it, and in parts we were obliged to bend our heads. At length, after taking many sharp turns, the passage grew wider and the path smooth and level.
"Loose the bandages," said the voice of Zibalbay.
Maya did so, and, when our eyes were accustomed to the light, we looked round us curiously to find that we stood at the bottom of a deep cleft or volcanic rift in the rock, made not by the hand of man but by that of Nature working with her tools of fire and water. This cleft—along which ran a road so solidly built and drained that, save here and there where snowdrifts blocked it, it was still easily passable after centuries of disuse—did not measure more than forty paces from wall to wall. On either side of it towered sheer black cliffs, honeycombed with doorways that could only have been reached by ladders.
"What are those?" I asked of Zibalbay. "Burying–places?"
"No," he answered, "dwelling–houses. They were there, so say the records, before our forefathers founded the City of the Heart, and in them dwelt cave–men, barbarians who fed on little and did not feel the cold. It was by following some of these cave–men through that passage which we have passed that the founder of the ancient city discovered this cleft and the good country and great lake that lie beyond it, where the rock–dwellers, whom our forefathers killed out, used to live in the winter season. Once, when I was young, with some companions I entered these caves by means of ropes and ladders, and found many strange things there, such as stone axes and rude ornaments of gold, relics of the barbarians. But let us press on, or night will overtake us in the pass."
By degrees the great cleft, that had widened as we walked, began to narrow again till it appeared to end in a second wall of rock.
Passing round a boulder that lay at the foot of this wall, Zibalbay led the way into a tunnel behind it.
"Do not fear the darkness," he said, "the passage is short and there are no pitfalls."
So we followed the sound of his footsteps through the gloom, till presently a spot of light appeared before us, and in another minute we stood on the further side of the mountain, though we could see nothing of the place because of the falling shadows.
Without pausing, Zibalbay pushed on down the hill, and, suddenly turning to the right, stopped before the door of a house built of hewn stone.
"Enter," he said, "and welcome to the country of the People of the Heart."
As the door was thrown open, light from the fire within streamed through it, and a man's voice was heard asking, "Who is there?"
Without answering, Zibalbay walked into the room. It was a low vaulted apartment, and at a table placed before the great fire which burnt upon the hearth sat a man and a woman eating.
"Is this the way that you watch for my return?" he asked in a stern voice. "Haste now and make food ready for we are starved with cold and hunger."
The man, who had risen, stood hesitating, but the woman, whose position enabled her to see the face of the speaker, caught him by the arm, saying,
"Down to your knees, husband. It is the cacique come back."
"Pardon," cried the man, taking the hint; "but to be frank, O lord, it has been so dinned in my ears down in the city yonder, that neither you nor the Lady of the Heart would ever return again, that I thought you must be ghosts. Yes, and so they will think in the city, where I have heard that Tikal rules in your place."
"Peace," said Zibalbay, frowning heavily. "We left robes here, did we not? Go, lay them out in the sleeping–chambers, and with them others for these my guests, while the woman prepares our meat."
The man bowed, stretching out his arms till the backs of his hands touched the ground. Then, taking an earthenware lamp from a side table, he lit it and disappeared behind a curtain, an example which the woman followed after she had rapidly removed the dishes that were upon the table, and fed the fire with wood.
When they were gone we gathered round the hearth to bask in the luxury of its warmth.
"What is this place?" asked the señor.
Zibalbay, who was wrapped in his own thoughts, did not seem to hear him, and Maya answered,
"A poor hovel that is used as a rest–house and by hunters of game, no more. These people are its keepers, and were charged to watch for our return, but they seem to have fulfilled their task ill. Pardon me, I go to help them. Come, father."
They went, and presently the señor awoke from a doze induced by the delightful warmth of the fire, to see the custodian of the place standing before him staring at him in amazement not unmixed with awe.
"What is the matter with the man, and what does he want, Ignatio?" he asked in Spanish.
"He wonders at your white skin and fair hair, señor, and says that he does not dare to speak to you because you must be one of the Heaven–born of whom their legends tell, wherefore he asks me to say that water to wash in and raiment to put on have been made ready for us if we will come with him."
Accordingly we followed the Indian, who led us into a passage at the back of the sitting–chamber, and thence to a small sleeping–room, one of several to which the passage gave access. In this room, which was lit by an oil lamp, were two bedsteads covered with blankets of deerskin and cotton sheets, and laid upon them were fine linen robes, and serapes made in alternate bands of grey and black feathers, worked on to a foundation of stout linen. Standing upon wooden stools in a corner of the room, and half–filled with steaming water, were two basins, which the señor noticed with astonishment were of hammered silver.