"There was a man in the Bible called Job, and he had a friend named Eliphaz—I think you are that friend come to life again, Ignatio," answered the señor, laughing. "For my part, I mean to make the best of the present, and not to trouble myself about the future or the politics of this benighted people. But hark, there is someone knocking at the door."
I rose, and undid the bolt, whereon attendants entered bearing goblets of chocolate, and little cakes upon a tray. After we had eaten, they led us to the baths, which were of marble and very beautiful, one of them being filled with water from a warm spring, and then to a chamber, where breakfast was made ready for us. While we sat at table, Mattai came to us, and I saw that he had not slept that night, for his eyes were heavy.
"I trust that you have rested well, strangers," he said courteously.
"Yes, lord," I answered.
"Well, it is more than I have done, for it is my business to watch the stars, especially my own star, which just now is somewhat obscured," and he smiled. "If you have finished your meal, my commands are to lead you to the apartments of the Lady Maya, who wishes to show you something of our city, which, being strangers, may interest you. By the way, if I do not ask too much, perhaps you will tell me to what race you belong," and he bowed towards the señor. "We have heard of white men here, though we have learned no good of them, and tradition tells us that our first ruler, Cucumatz, was of this race. Are you of his blood, stranger?"
"I do not know," answered the señor, laughing. "I come from a cold country far beyond the sea, where all the men are as I am."
"Then the inhabitants of that country must be goodly to behold," answered Mattai gravely. "I thank you for your courtesy, Son of the Sea, in answering my question so readily. I did not ask it from curiosity alone, since the people in this city are terrified of strangers, and clamour for some account of you."
"Doubtless our friend Zibalbay will satisfy them," I said.
"Good. Now be pleased to follow me"—and Mattai led us across courts and through passages till we reached a little ante–room filled with ancient carvings and decorated with flowers, where some girls stood chatting.
"Tell the Lady Maya that her guests await her," said Mattai, then turned to take his departure, adding, in a low voice, "doubtless we shall meet at noon upon the pyramid, and there you will see I know not what; but, whatever befalls, be sure of this, strangers, that I will protect you if I can. Farewell."
One of the girls vanished through a doorway at the further end of the chamber, and, having offered us seats, the others stood together at a little distance, watching us out of the corners of their eyes. Presently the door opened, and through it came Maya, wearing a silken serape that covered her head and shoulders, and looking very sweet and beautiful in the shaded light of the room.
"Greetings, friends," she said, as we bowed before her. "I have my father's leave to show you something of this city that you longed so much to see. These ladies here will accompany us, and a guard, but we shall want no litters until we have ascended the great temple, for I desire that you should see the view from thence before the place is cumbered with the multitude. Come, if you are ready."
Accordingly we set out, Maya walking between us, while her guards and ladies followed after. Crossing the square, which had been the scene of the festival of the previous night, but now in the early morning was almost deserted, we came to the inclosure of the court–yard of the pyramid, a limestone wall worked with sculptures of hunting scenes, relieved by a border of writhing snakes, and at intervals by emblems of the Heart. At the gateway of this wall we paused to contemplate the mighty mass of the pyramid that towered above us. There is one in the land of Egypt that is bigger, so said the señor, although he believed this to be a more wonderful sight because of its glittering slopes of limestone, whose expanse was broken only by the vast stair that ran up its eastern face from base to summit.
"It is a great building," said Maya, noting our astonishment, "and one that could not be reared in these days. Tradition says that five–and–twenty thousand men worked on it for fifty years—twenty thousand of them cutting and carrying the stone, and five thousand laying the blocks."
"Where did the material come from, then?" asked the señor.
"Some of it was hewn from beneath the base of the temple itself," she answered, "but the most was borne in big canoes from quarries on the mainland, for these quarries can still be seen."
"Is the pyramid hollow, then?" I asked.
"Yes, in it are many chambers, for the most part store and treasure houses, and beneath its base lie crypts, the burying–place of the caciques, their wives, and children. There also is the Holy Sanctuary of the Heart, which you, being of the Brotherhood, may perhaps be permitted to visit. Come, let us climb the stair"—and she led us across the court–yard to the foot of a stairway forty feet or more in breadth, which ran to the platform of the pyramid in six flights, each of fifty steps, and linked together by resting–places.
Up these flights we toiled slowly, followed by the ladies and the guard, till at length our labour was rewarded, and we stood upon the dizzy edge of the pyramid. Before us was a platform bordered by a low wall, large enough to give standing room to several thousand people. On the western side of this platform stood a small marble house, used as a place to store fuel, and as a watch–tower by the priests, who were on duty day and night, tending the sacred fire which flared in a brazier from its roof. Sitting in front of it, was a small altar wreathed with flowers, but for the rest the area was empty.
"Look," said Maya.
The city beneath us was built upon a low, heart–shaped island, so hollow in its centre that once it might have been the crater of some volcano, or perhaps a mere ridge of land inclosing a lagoon. This island measured about ten miles in length by six across at its widest, and seemed to float like a huge green leaf upon the lake, the Holy Waters of these Indians, of which the circumference is so great that even from the summit of the pyramid, a few small and rocky islets excepted, land was only visible to the north, whence we had sailed on the previous night. Elsewhere the eye met nothing but blue expanses of inland sea, limitless and desolate, unrelieved by any sail or sign of life. Amidst these waters the island gleamed like an emerald. Here were gardens filled with gorgeous flowers and clumps of beautiful palms and willows, framed by banks of dense green reeds that grew in the shallows around the shores. So luxuriant was the vegetation, fertilised year by year with the rich mud of the lake, and so lovely were the trees and flowers in the soft light of the morning, that the place seemed like a paradise rather than a home of men; and as was the island, so was the city that was built upon one end of it.
Following the lines of the land upon which it stood, it was heart–shaped—a heart of cold, white marble lying within a heart of glowing green. All about it ran a moat filled with water from the lake, and on the hither side of this moat stood a wall fifty feet or more in height, built of great blocks of white limestone that formed the bed–rock of the island, which wall was everywhere sculptured with allegorical devices and designs, and the gigantic figures of gods. Within the oblong of this wall lay the city; a city of palaces, pyramids, and temples, or rather the remains of it, for we could see at a glance that the population was unable to keep so many streets and edifices in repair. Thus palm–trees were to be found growing through the flat roofs of houses, and in crevices of the temple–pyramids, while many of the streets and avenues were green with grass and ferns, a narrow pathway in the centre of them showing how few were the feet of the passers–by. Even in the great square beneath us the signs of traffic were rare, and there was little of the bustle of a people engaged in the business of life, although this very place had been the scene of last night's feast, and would again soon be filled with men and women flocking to the pyramid. Now and again some graceful, languid girl, a reed basket in her hand, might be seen visiting the booths, where rations of fish from the lake, or of meal, fruit, dried venison, and cocoa, were distributed according to the wants of each family. Or perhaps a party of men, on their way to labour in the gardens, stopped to smoke and talk together in a fashion that showed time to be of little value to them. Here and there also a few—a very few—children played together with flowers for toys in the shadow of the palaces, barracks, and store–houses which bordered the central square; but this was all, for the rest the place seemed empty and asleep.