The National Book
BECAUSE it is possible for persons to do both good and evil in their lives, and to think good and bad thoughts, the wise men and the Golden Hearted studied how to keep these ideas before the people all the time. In those days, the natives of that country had no books and no way of writing and it was necessary to select some familiar object to represent the meaning of many things. Whatever is used for such a purpose, is called a symbol.
The hippopotamus, the crocodile and the tapir are to this day said to be symbols of humanity because they have two natures. They can live in the water or on the land, and search for food either in the day or night time. Of the three animals, the wise men selected the tapir because it is a shy, inoffensive creature, not much larger than a sheep and lives on green grasses and herbs. During the day it sleeps quietly in the water or on the bank of a stream and at night comes on land to get food. When its coat is dry, it is of a dark brown color, but when wet, it is black and shining. A tapir looks very much like a fat donkey except that its ears are not so long and its nose not quite so stumpy. At Nachan the wise men raised great herds of them as an example and illustration of our good and bad self.
The Golden Hearted realized that he must do more than found a large city and teach the children, so he had a Dark House built away under ground where he could store treasures and all the records of his journey. This was a secret passageway, and in its halls and labyrinths he had quantities of statuary and pottery put for safe keeping. While this was being done, he wrote a book called in his language "The Popol Vuh" but we would say it is a national book because it tells all about the beginning of the world and is divided into four parts. It is a most singular story, and has been translated so we can read it for ourselves. It is said to be the oldest book in America, and the Golden Hearted kept an order of wise men in the Dark House underground to guard it from one generation to another.
The Popul Vuh
This is the beginning of the history of things which came to pass long ago; of the division of the earth, the property of all; its origin and its foundation, as well as the narrative of our life in the land of shadows, and of how we saw the light. It is the first book written in the olden times, but its view is hidden from him who sees and thinks.
Behold the first word and the first discourse. There was as yet no man, nor any animal, nor bird, nor fish, nor crawfish, nor any pit, nor any ravine, nor green herb, nor any tree.
Nothing was but the firmament.
The face of the earth had not yet appeared—only the peaceful sea and all the space of heaven. There was nothing yet joined together, nothing that clung to anything else; nothing that balanced itself, that made the least rustling, that made a sound in the heaven. There was nothing that stood up; nothing but silence and darkness and night time.
Alone were those that engender, those that give being; they were upon the waters like a growing light. They consulted together and meditated; they mingled their words and their opinions.
"Earth!" they said, and on the instant it was formed; like a cloud of fog was its beginning.
Then the mountains rose over the water like great lobsters. In an instant the mountains and plains were visible and the cypress and the pine trees appeared.
The Heart of Heaven cried out and said:
"Blessed be thy coming. Our work and our labor has accomplished its end."
The earth and its vegetation having appeared, it was peopled with the various forms of animal life. And the makers said to the animals, "Speak now our name. Honor Him who begets and Him who gives being. Speak, call on us, salute us."
But the animals could not answer. They could only cluck and croak, each murmuring after its kind in a different manner.
This displeased the creators, and they said to the animals:
"Inasmuch as ye cannot praise us, neither call upon our names, your flesh shall be humiliated. It shall be broken with teeth. Ye shall be killed and eaten."
The first man was made of clay, but he was watery, had no strength and could not turn his head. His face looked one way all the time. He was given a language, but he had no intelligence, so he was consumed in water.
"Let us make an intelligent being who shall adore and invoke us," said the Thunderbolt and the Lightning Flash.
It was decided that a man should be made of wood and a woman of a kind of pith. They were made but the result was in no wise satisfactory. They moved about perfectly well it is true; they increased and multiplied and peopled the world with little wooden manikins like themselves, but the heart and intelligence were wanting. They had no memory of their Maker; they lived like the beasts and forgot the Heart of Heaven. They had neither blood nor substance, nor moisture nor fat. Their cheeks were shriveled; their feet and hands dried up.
Then was the Heart of Heaven very wroth, and he sent ruin and destruction upon these ingrates. He rained upon them night and day with a thick resin and the earth was all dark.
The men went mad with terror. They tried to mount up on the roofs, but the houses fell with them. They tried to climb the trees, but the trees shook them from their branches. They tried to hide in the caves and dens of the earth, but these closed against them.
Then their heads were cut off, and their bones broken and bruised, and their eyes picked out by the birds, and their flesh eaten by wild beasts.
Thus were they all devoted to chastisement and destruction save only a few who were preserved as memorials of the wooden men. These now exist in the forests as little apes.
In the night the gods counseled together again. "Of what shall we make man?" they said.
Then the Creator made four perfect men out of white and yellow corn. The name of the first one was The Tiger With the Sweet Smile, the second one was called The Tiger of the Night, the third one was The Distinguished Name, and the fourth was The Tiger of the Moon. They had neither father nor mother, but their coming into existence was a miracle wrought by the special intervention of Him who is pre-eminently the Creator.
At last were there found men worthy of their origin and their destiny. Verily the gods looked on beings who could see with their eyes and handle with their hands and understand with their hearts. Grand of countenance and broad of limb, the four sires of our race stood up under the white rays of the morning star.
Their great, clear eyes swept rapidly over all. They saw the woods, the rocks, the lakes and the sea; the mountains and the valleys, and they gazed up into heaven not knowing what they had come so far to do. Their hearts were filled with love, obedience and fear. Lifting up their eyes, they returned thanks saying:
"Hail! O Creator, Thou that lovest and understandest us! We offer up our thanks. We have been created—abandon us not, forsake us not! Give us descendants and a posterity as long as the light endures. Give us to walk always in an open wood in a path without snares; to lead quiet lives free of all reproach."
But the Gods were not wholly pleased with this thing. Heaven, they thought, had overshot its mark. These men were too perfect; knew, understood and saw too much.
"What shall we do with man now?" they said. "This that we see is not good. Let us contract man's sight so he may see only a little of the surface of the earth and be content."
Thereupon, the Heart of Heaven breathed a cloud over the pupils of the eyes of the men, and a veil came over each eye as when one breathes on the face of a mirror. Thus was the globe of the eye darkened, nor was that which was far off clear to it any more.
Then they fell asleep and when they woke up, the gods had brought each one of them a wife. They lived tranquilly together for a long time waiting for the rising of the sun, because they had nothing but the morning star for a light.
But no sun came, and the four men and their families grew uneasy.
"We have no one to watch over us, no one to guard our symbols," they said. So they all set out for the Seven Caves.
Poor wanderers. They had a cruel way to go, many forests to penetrate, many high mountains to climb, and a long passage to make through the sea. Much hail and cold rain fell on their heads, and when their fires all went out they suffered from hunger as well as cold.
At last they came to a mountain and here they rested. While there they were told that the sun was coming very soon. Then they shook their incense pans and danced for very gladness. As the sun commenced to advance, the animals, great and small, were filled with delight. They raised themselves to the surface of the waters, they fluttered in the ravines, and gathering at the edge of the mountains, turned their heads together toward that part from which the sun came.
The lion and the tiger roared, and the first bird that sang was the Quetzal. All the animals were beside themselves at the sight. The eagle and the kite beat their wings, and the men prostrated themselves on the ground.
The sun and the moon and the stars were all established. Yet was not the sun the same as now. His heat wanted force, and he was but as a reflection in a mirror. Nevertheless he dried up and warmed the surface of the earth and answered many good ends.
There was another wonder when the sun rose. The tribal gods who had punished these poor people so were turned into stone. And so were all the mammoth lions, tigers, vipers, and other fierce and dangerous animals.
Manco-Capac, the Powerful One
IT is time for us to go away from this place," said the wise men to the Golden Hearted one day when they were finishing the Dark House, where they were going to leave the National Book.
"Why do you think so?" asked the prince, laying down an axe made of copper and tin which he was sharpening for one of the workmen.
"Because we have yet to find the spot where the gold wedge your father, the king, gave you will sink into the earth of its own accord."
"That is to be in the Place of Gold, and among the Children of the Sun."
"Yes; and we are not far from the country known as the "Four Quarters of the World" where they live. We must go to them at once, and there we will build Cuzco, and make it the navel or center of all their possessions. Under the name of Manco-Capac, the powerful one, you will be the first Inca or ruler, and your banner will be a rainbow, to show that you serve the Children of the Sun."
The Golden Hearted did not wish to become a ruler but he did not see how he could refuse obedience to the faithful old wise men, so he said:
"I will go with you and do as you say, but tell me how you intend to build this wonderful city of Cuzco?"
"You must not feel that we compel you to go," said the wise men, looking ready to cry, because they thought the young prince was not pleased with them. "It was your father's command, and our promise to him."
"I know that," said the prince impatiently, "but how are you going to make Cuzco the center of everything?"
"By building the streets on the four points of the compass, and by connecting it with royal roadways to the four corners of the kingdom. We shall have no trouble doing so, for our reports say that the natives are mild and gentle, and that there are stones in that country as broad and long as a room."
When he and the wise men started to make the journey over the mountains, they put all of their belongings on the backs of the llamas—a kind of little camel not much larger than a sheep and which is used in that country to-day for pack animals, instead of burros or mules. They put the load on the llama's back without any girt or pack saddle, and its long, bushy wool holds all the things in place. It has a sharp-pointed, horny toe like a hook, which it fastens in the steep rocks, and then it can climb over rough places without much trouble. When a llama gets angry he does not spit like an ordinary camel, but lies down like a stubborn mule. No matter what you do to him, he will not budge an inch, and then the load has to be taken off, and he must be coaxed and fed before he will go any farther.
One day the wise men and the Golden Hearted came to a wide rocky chasm in the side of the mountain hundreds of feet deep, having a swift-running river at the bottom. There were so many sharp rocks sticking up and the water dashed over them so fast that it was all in a white foam, and nothing could have swam across it. The native servants and workmen did not know what to do.
"How are we to cross this deep canyon?" they asked.
"We will help you make a suspension bridge," said the wise men.
"But we have no tools"—they began.
"You have your two hands and some copper axes and that is sufficient."
"We can fell trees and bring stones, but there are not enough to span such a dangerous place," they said, still doubtful about the outcome.
"Take your axes and cut all the maguey you can find," said the wise men. "Bring it here and pile it up; then we will tell you what next to do."
The wise men and the Golden Hearted made some heavy clubs out of the hard wood they found growing near by. With these in a short time they beat the maguey until its fibers fell apart in coarse strands, which the sun dried. Then they helped the natives braid it into heavy, thick ropes. When they got enough of these made, they wove them together into a stout cable chain, long enough to stretch across the river.
"What shall we do with the ends?" asked the natives. "We cannot tie them to a tree."
"Certainly not, but you can gather big and little stones for us," answered the wise men.
With these they built immense buttresses on the bank of the river, wide at the bottom and narrow at the top so they would not tumble down nor slip into the waters. Of course they had to leave holes in the sides to fasten the cables into. It took several strands to make the bridge wide enough, and even then the natives were afraid they would fall into the water.
"We need a railing at each side," they said.
"Very well; make one out of the ropes," said the wise men. When this was done the natives were still unwilling to try to go across.
"We cannot take a single step. Our feet get tangled in the meshes of the cable."
"Overcome this by making some rough boards and laying them all the way over."
It was indeed a novel suspension bridge, for when the planks were put onto the cable it sagged in the middle and swayed forth and back in the wind like a swing. Imagine how frightened the natives must have been at first, but in that mountainous country they never build any other kind of bridges and they use them now all of the time.
"In this open stretch of valley and plain we will plant sweet-smelling trees and shrubs by the roadside so that travelers may be refreshed by the shade and enjoy the perfume, and we will also teach the Children of the Sun to build tambos or post houses," said the Golden Hearted, when once they were over the mountains. This they did at every point where they stopped to rest, and at each one they left a band of chasquis, or runners in charge. The word chasqui means "one who makes an exchange," and these men and boys not only carried the news like our postmen and messengers, but they traded news with each other and with every one else they met. Before allowing any of the runners to go out the Golden Hearted said: "I will make you keepers of the Quippos, or knotted cords. The red ones mean war, or other bad news, while the white ones are for peace and prosperity. In the springtime if the crops are good, you must carry bands of green cords. If you wish to spread the reports of gold and silver use that kind of quippo, so that the people seeing you far off may know the import of your message. Count them always by tens and twenties, and use diligence and care to be accurate and quick in your calculations."
This was a queer kind of arithmetic but it was astonishing how soon the boys learned it. In after years there were bands of strolling singers and poets who went about the country, and they used the quippos to recall the things they wanted to remember, such as the brave deeds of their ancestors and the names of their heroes. So long as the inhabitants of this country were called Children of the Sun, they had no other books and they trained young men to be experts in reading them. The language of the Quippos is said to be very correct and elegant.
The first thing the Golden Hearted did when he arrived at the end of his journey was to divide the land into three parts—one for the sun, one for the king and one for the people. Then he appointed beautiful young girls to be Virgins of the Sun and placed them in charge of elderly women, who taught them how to spin and weave the fine hair of the vicuna into hangings for the Place of Gold which the wise men had already commenced to build. The girls knew how to embroider beautifully, and it was a part of their duty to keep the sacred fires always burning on the altar. The Golden Hearted lighted the fire himself, and it was kept burning night and day for hundreds of years. In the Houses of the Virgins no man, not even the king, could go, and if any one ever did, the people not only killed him but tore down his house. When they did anything of this kind they called it "sowing the ground with stones," and ever afterward his family and friends wore mourning on account of the terrible disgrace.
The Place of Gold was a temple in the center of Cuzco so named because the gold wedge sunk immediately into the ground when it was tried, and the wise men said it was appropriate because "gold was the tears wept by the sun." It is said that no building in the world was ever more beautiful than this wonderful temple. The wise men and the Golden Hearted did the best work they knew how, and there was plenty of gold and precious stones in the mountains, so they could use as much as they liked. In front of the eastern entrance was a huge sunburst made like a human face, with rays of light starting out in every direction. Each ray was thickly set with emeralds, and when the sun rose in the morning, the reflection of the shining gold and the sparkle of the emeralds lighted up the whole temple. Besides this they had burnished plates and cornices and vases and animals and flowers of gold all around the walls, and the water urns and incense pans were also of the bright yellow metal.
"We will celebrate a great festival of Rami; the renewal time, when the sun is coaxing the earth back to fertility; when the buds and leaves are putting forth, and the birds are beginning to nest," said the Golden Hearted, as soon as the temple was completed.
"Show the Children of the Sun that we honor the soil by turning the first sod yourself," said the wise men, when told about the coming celebration.
"I will," said the prince, who was now called Manco-Capac, and was the ruler of the kingdom, "and the Virgins of the Sun shall drop the seeds. Let every one come in holiday clothes and with songs and dancing and feasting we will commemorate the day."
The next morning all the people came together to watch the sun rise. The Virgins were dressed in white with wreaths of flowers on their heads and every one wore ornaments and jewels and was as blithe and gay as if he were going to a picnic.
Just as the sun peeped up over the edge of the horizon and smiled "good morning" to them, the Golden Hearted poured a libation on the ground from a golden goblet, and the people all shouted "Haille! Haille!" meaning triumph. The prince, the wise men and everybody faced the risen sun with bared heads and bowed three times. Then the prince said:
"Many think that the Sun is the Maker of all things. But he who makes should abide by what he has done. Now many things happen when the sun is absent; therefore he cannot be the universal creator. And that he is alive at all is doubtful for his trips do not tire him. Were he a living thing he would grow weary like ourselves. Were he free he would visit other parts of the heavens. He is a tethered beast who makes a daily round under the eye of the Master. He is like an arrow which must go whither it is sent; not whither it wishes. I tell you that he, our father and master, the Sun, must have a lord more powerful than himself who constrains him to his daily circuit without pause or rest."
The Golden Hearted spoke like this because he did not wish the Children of the Sun to believe it was really their father or God either.
All the assemblage took off their sandals and went into the Place of Gold and prayed; then came out to the court yard and offered up sacrifice of perfumes, fruits and flowers. When this was done they hurried to the fields and after the Golden Hearted turned the first sod every one else began to work. They had no plows, and those who did not break the ground with a dull saber, dropped seeds all day long. As the sun went down they laid aside their toil, and marched home shouting and singing, because now they were going to have a feast, with bonfires and dancing as late into the night as they wished.