Bochica and the Zipa
IN the Cinnamon country not far from Cuzco lived the Muscas, a rich and powerful nation who were less civilized than the Children of the Sun and were so quarrelsome that they constantly disputed among themselves. Finally the Zipa, or king, died and then there was great danger of war breaking out between the different factions as to who should be the new ruler.
At last the oldest son of the dead Zipa came to Cuzco to ask the Golden Hearted to decide who should inherit the kingdom.
"This is a matter of grave moment," said he, "and I must warn you that my time of ruling the Children of the Sun is near an end. Soon must I go to build the temple of Guatavita, the Good Life, and then must I leave this part of the world for another clime where much work awaits me."
"Come to us and build the temple of Good Life, and I promise you that both I and my brave Muscas shall be the guardians of your teachings. You shall be a demi-god among us."
"I have no wish to be anything more than an elder brother to you and your people," replied the Golden Hearted. "I am come from my home to serve humanity and must go with you if you need me—not because you wish to honor me."
The son of the Zipa then offered him many presents of gold, rich cloth, and precious stones, but the Golden Hearted refused to accept any of them. Finally the young man said:
"I am greatly disappointed, good prince, and have only this piece of bark and a strange kind of fruit to offer you. The bark is royal in my country because it cures the hated fever and is worthy your best confidence. As to the fruit, taste it for yourself."
To his surprise the Golden Hearted and the wise men were much pleased with the bark which we know to-day as Peruvian and from which quinine is made, and the pineapple tastes as sweet to us as it did to the Golden Hearted.
The son of the Zipa and his nobles conducted the wise men and the Golden Hearted over one elevated table-land after another until they came to one of the highest lakes in the world, where people can live, and its name is Gautavita.
"These terraced mountain sides show that your example has been well profited by the Children of the Sun," said the son of the Zipa, as they trudged along the royal roadway leading from Cuzco to the cinnamon country. "The instruction of the wise men in building canals and aqueducts has turned this into a garden spot even though nature intended it to be barren."
The Golden Hearted thought this would be a good opportunity to let his new friend know that he did not approve of war, and that the adherents of the Good Law, must not fight among themselves, so he said gently:
"All that you see before you is the working out of a fixed principle. Universal kindness is the secret of our success. Treat the earth gently and with consideration and she blesses you seven fold. Dig into her bosom and she yields her choicest treasures, and the beasts and birds respond to your affectionate touch. The heart of the man is the same, my friend. The obedience and allegiance of your subjects must come from the heart. If when I go among them they tell me they wish you to be their Zipa then will I go to your opponent and persuade him to relinquish his claim in your favor."
"And if he does not consent—"
"Then must you yield to him peaceably. I will not allow any blood shed on either side."
The son of the Zipa knew by the firm tone of the Golden Hearted that he meant what he said and his face turned a bright red, because he thought his own selfish purpose was known to his guest. Down in his heart he was planning to go into the capital city with a grand flourish and pretend that the Children of the Sun had sent their ruler and wise men to help him capture the throne. Now he knew very well he would not dare do anything of the kind.
"But you do not know my people, good prince," he said. "They will never obey a Zipa they do not fear."
"I am not familiar with the faces of your subjects, but I know the heart of all mankind, and whether he be white or black, young or old, the child of fortune or the opposite, he is amenable to the law of love. Win his affection and he will serve you as faithfully and obediently as a dog."
"I am afraid my turbulent warriors would not respect such a policy," replied the son of the Zipa, shaking his head.
"Remember in dealing with either man or animal that fear degrades while love ennobles."
By this time they were coming in sight of the calm peaceful waters of the lake stretched out like a sheet of glass before them.
"Water," said the Golden Hearted, "is like a pure mind—limpid and clear. It permits us to look into its depths for hidden treasures, or to see our own image reflected back from its surface. Let your heart and mind be such a mirror, and trust your people to make the right selection."
With this he laid his hand upon the shoulder of his young companion and as their eyes met, the son of the Zipa felt certain that he had a loyal and disinterested friend who would help him in the right way.
The next morning the prince and the wise men called the nobles and warriors together, and listened patiently to all they had to say for and against the two candidates. As he came into the audience chamber the strange one scowled and frowned at the visitors, but to his surprise the Golden Hearted took his hand and said:
"We have made a long, wearisome journey, my brother, in order to serve your own and your state's best interest. Speak freely that we may be able to judge fairly between the two."
"There is nothing to tell that my warriors do not already know," was the curt reply. "I am able to crush opposition and to command respect and obedience. I do not need your assistance, sir."
For a moment there was a look of pain on the face of the Golden Hearted. Then he said gently:
"You, more than any one else need help, because you are unable to govern yourself much less a rich and prosperous nation."
When it became known that the representatives of the Children of the Sun would not compel the people to accept a Zipa they did not like, they came out of their houses where they had been hidden all day for fear of violence, and marched up and down the streets playing on shell trumpets, gongs and kettle drums, and shouting the name of the oldest son of the Zipa who was in due time crowned as the rightful heir to the throne.
His first official act was to pierce the upper part of the ear of his subjects and put in gold wheels of fine filigree work, as large around as an orange. As he did so he said to each one:
"Swear by Him who gives and sustains life in the Universe, that you will faithfully keep the Good Law brought to us from the sea, by Bochica, our deliverer."
This was the name the Zipa gave the Golden Hearted, and as each man passed by him he gave them a little cake made of corn meal, and continued:
"To-morrow our good friends leave us for many days to come, but Bochica will return again, and to show him that we will do his bidding willingly let us take balsas or rafts with sails and go out on the lake where he may see the intent of our minds reflected in the water. Put wreaths of many colored flowers on the balsas, and carry with you gold and emeralds which we will cast into the lake in token of our pledge to him."
For hundreds of years afterwards, the Mucas and their descendants kept this holiday as an anniversary of the departure of the prince and the wise men. They knew that he was called the Golden Hearted in the Happy Island, and every year they selected a young priest from the temple of Gautavita, to impersonate him. After his bath the priest smeared himself all over with a fragrant oil, and then his attendants blew gold dust through reeds onto his body until he looked like a solid statue. They put him in the center of the flower-laden raft, and with chants and hymns rowed out on the lake and threw emeralds and gold dust into it. The young men wore white shirts with a red cross on the breast, and tied a red sash around their waists. On their heads were crowns of flowers and evergreen leaves to show that their virtues would continue as long as they lived, and that they were followers of the teachings of the Golden Hearted. They were always hoping and praying for his return.
We shall hear more of this ceremony and what came of it when we read the story of the Gilded Man.
Song of Hiawatha
YE who love the haunts of nature,
Love the sunshine of the meadow,
Love the shadow of the forest
Love the wind among the branches,
And the rain-shower and the snow-storm
And the rushing of great rivers
Through their palisades of pine trees,
And the thunder in the mountains
Whose innumerable echoes
Flap like eagles in their eyries;
Listen to these wild traditions,
To this song of Hiawatha!
Ye who love a nation's legends,
Love the ballads of a people,
That like voices from a far off
Call to us to pause and listen,
Speak in tones so plain and child-like,
Scarcely can the ear distinguish
Whether they are sung or spoken—
Listen to this Indian Legend,
To this song of Hiawatha!
Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple,
Who have faith in God and nature,
Who believe that in all ages
Every human heart is human,
That in even savage bosoms
There are longings, yearnings, strivings
For the good they comprehend not
That the feeble hands and helpless,
Groping blindly in the darkness,
Touch God's right hand in the darkness
And are lifted up and strengthened
Listen to this simple story
To this song of Hiawatha!
Ye, who sometimes in your rambles
Through the green lanes of the country,
Where the tangled barbary bushes
Hang their tufts of crimson berries
Over stone walls gray with mosses,
Pause by some neglected grave-yard
For a while to muse, and ponder
On a half-effaced inscription,
Written with little skill of song-craft,
Homely phrases, but each letter
Full of hope and yet of heart-break,
Full of all the tender pathos
Of the Here and the Hereafter—
Stay and read this rude inscription,
Read this song of Hiawatha!
—Henry W. Longfellow.
Michabo, the Great White Hare
UNLESS you know what river was called the "Father of Waters" it will be a secret as to where the Golden Hearted and the wise men went when they took leave of the Zipa. There are many quaint stories told about this river, and also about the queer mounds and earthworks built by a strange race of men who lived ages ago in that part of our country. Their descendants are not very civilized and seem to have forgotten much that their ancestors knew although they have some very pretty ideas. For instance, they imagine that they hear voices in the growing branches and whispering leaves of the trees, and they see little vanishing men in the cliffs everywhere. They say that the Great Spirit makes the Indian summer by puffing smoke out of his cheeks, from his great peace pipe.
Before the Golden Hearted came they built a medicine lodge—a kind of temple facing the sunrise, in a place called the "Moon of Leaves." When it was finished, Wunzh, a youth of noble character and tender heart, summoned the spirits of the four quarters of the world and the day maker to come to his fire and disclose the hidden things of the distance and future.
No one can tell why they named the Golden Hearted, "Michabo, the Great White Hare," unless it was because he came in the time of the year represented in their calendar by a rabbit. They kept a record of the seasons by crude pictures drawn on the inside bark of trees, and with them the months were called moons.
No one blames them for saying the wise men were jossakeeds or prophets, because they really did look peculiar in their long robes, beards and tall black hats, especially to men who had on buffalo robes and feather head dresses.
Wunzh and his tribe received the Golden Hearted with solemn faces and much respect when they heard that he came from the Four Quarters of the World, which we know was the land of the Inca, very far south.
"Welcome, great white chief," they said, "come and sit by our council fire. Our hearts have long been weary waiting for you."
When they were all seated Wunzh handed the Golden Hearted a peace pipe shaped like a tomahawk filled with tobacco and already lighted. Not a word was spoken until every one present had taken three whiffs out of the pipe. Then the Golden Hearted said:
"I come to speak for my brothers, the fish, the animals, the creeping things and the feathered messengers of the air. I often listen to their complaints and they charge you with slaying them for food when the grains and fruits would serve you better."
"We are not disdainful of the grapes and berries concealed in our forests," replied Wunzh, "but we have no grain save rice and this must be carried on our backs for many days. Our snows and chill winds kill the plant before its seeds appear."
"Whatever the reason may be you will never do any real good in the world until you learn how to fast days at a time and can live without eating so much flesh. Even your vaunted skill with bow and arrow is not genuine. I am a better shot."
The wise men were alarmed for a moment fearing that Wunzh would be angry and that his followers would be offended also. Besides they had never heard the Golden Hearted speak boastfully before, and they were puzzled to know what would happen next.
"I am willing to try the bow with my friend," said Wunzh, with a flash of the eye and a toss of the head, which showed that he was vain and had an uncertain temper.
"When will it suit you to make the contest," quietly asked the Golden Hearted, as he arose and turned to leave the council fire.
"To-morrow's sun," answered Wunzh, haughtily, "and when it is so high," indicating a space in the sky that would make it quite early in the morning.
"Let it take place in the large square surrounded by your lodges," said the Golden Hearted, carelessly as he walked toward the one assigned for his use.
To the wise men he said:
"Leave me for a little time, I wish to be alone."
They wondered what he could mean by such language and such actions. It was evident that he did not intend to make any explanation to them, so they could only wait to see what the outcome would be.
Once inside the tent the Golden Hearted began to work on a plaited disc of straw. As soon as it was finished, he drew rings of red, blue, black and white all around the big yellow center, and was propping it up to dry when Wunzh appeared at the door of the lodge.
"I have come to show you the center pole where you may hang up the target, and we will then step off the distance between the different shooting stations," he said. "The rule requires each of us to speed two dozen arrows from the nearest point, twice that many from the middle ground, and seventy-two from the outside post."
While in the Happy Island, the prince had learned all about the use of the bow and arrow, but this was the first time he had an opportunity to show his skill, and the wise men were anxious that he should not fail, because they knew that the friends of Wunzh would not have much respect for him if he did. They could not understand how he could be so smiling and unconcerned.
The fame of Wunzh as a bowman was known far and wide and the descendants of the Mound Builders were certain he would win. At daybreak the next morning there was a solid line of warriors around the ring where the trial was to be made, and they were as motionless and stolid looking as if they had been carved out of wood. No one could tell by their faces what they were thinking and they would not have turned their heads for anything. Some of them made a kind of music on a tom-tom or Indian drum and Wunzh and the Golden Hearted marched in step like soldiers, and smiled and bowed to everybody as they came into the ring. The Golden Hearted knew all the time that he was the doubtful one, and just for a moment he glanced at the anxious faces of the wise men. Though not sure in their hearts they nodded encouragingly and before he had touched a bow every eye in the crowd was upon him.
The keepers of the bows and arrows were very fair minded, and were careful to see there were no knots or gnarls or cracks in the waxy brown hunting bow made of straight grained mulberry wood. The one to be used was six feet long and its tips were of polished elk horn, and there was a buckskin handhold in the center. The hickory arrows were as smooth as glass with very sharp saw-teeth edges on the flint heads. Around the notch end there were three vanes of eagle feathers.
The descendants of the Mound Builders were courteous enough to give their guest the first shot. As the Golden Hearted pulled a buckskin shield over his right hand he looked up at the wise men, and his eyes said:
"Trust me! I shall not fail."
Then he stooped quickly and raised the bow from the ground and placed it against his knee cap to get a good purchase. With an upward body movement he drew the long bow as far as he could, faced the painted disc target and let fly. Like the arrow that sped so swiftly that it caught fire as it flew, this one sang through the air and imbedded itself in the blue ring where it rocked and shook violently.
"The Great White Hare has won five points!" shouted the tally keepers in the Judge's corner.
"What skill!" said one pointing to the still quivering arrow. "What strength!" said another, while the wise men began to feel very proud indeed.
It was such hard work that the face of Golden Hearted was flushed but he shut his teeth together hard, and was determined to make a still better effort.
His second shot sent the arrow into the red ring nearly opposite the blue, and this scored him seven points.
"There is fine aiming!" said the judges to each other, while the other people leaned over in their seats and watched intently.
There was just a shadow of a smile on the lips of the Golden Hearted, as he made ready for the final shot from the first station.
"Ping!" and the third arrow fairly whistled as it hit the exact center of the yellow spot.
Instantly the whole crowd were on their feet, all talking at once and making so much noise that the tally keepers could not be heard.
"Five—seven—nine are the points; twenty-one for final score," they shouted.
The Golden Hearted flung down his bow and stepped to one side to make room for Wunzh. He stood wiping the perspiration off his forehead and was pleased because he saw that every one felt kindly toward him.
"Now the jossakeeds will learn how to shoot!" exclaimed the men who had backed Wunzh.
"He will never equal the first score," said others who were skillful with a bow and arrow themselves and knew how hard it was to make such fine shots.
Wunzh sent his first arrow with a vim and energy that showed he had been in constant practice, but all three of his darts sped feebly and barely indented the black ring.
"The jossakeeds hold the first station," announced the judges. "Move on to the next one."
Now came the real test of skill, and every man was interested because they all made use of the bow and arrow, in hunting and in war, and had no other kind of weapon except a knife. Hundreds of the spectators left their seats and crowded around the contestants.
The heavy hunting bow was laid aside now and one made of elastic but tough yew was substituted. The arrows had finely-pointed obsidian heads, matched and smooth but sharp as a needle.
The Golden Hearted was careful to see that the yew was properly seasoned and when satisfied, he placed the arrow on the left side of the bow with its notch set on the string. He drew the string back to just below the chin, aimed over the arrow tip and let fly.
The spectators were quick to see that his aim, draw, finish and loose was perfect even in speeding the arrows so fast they could scarcely be seen. When shooting three at a time he drove all of them into the yellow center within a quarter of an inch of each other!
The friends of Wunzh shouted and screamed:
"It is not fair! He uses too many arrows. Give us justice!" until the judges were compelled to order the warriors to drive the crowd back again with the points of their spears.
In the noise, confusion and excitement every one forgot the birds perched on a cross bar at the top of the pole supporting the target. There was a blue jay, a raven, a white dove and a green parrot. Each had a string attached to one leg. Now of course they remembered and crowded around to hear what the judges would say.
"Will the prince of the jossakeeds take a shot at the birds before being crowned with the Yew wreath of valor?"
As soon as the Golden Hearted could make himself heard he said:
"I am willing to comply with your request, but I hope I shall not hurt any of the birds."
"The parrot shall cry your aim, and must remain unharmed. You may kill the blue or the black bird, but you must release the peaceful dove uninjured. Will you remember these conditions?"
The Golden Hearted came within range and waited for a favorable opportunity. By a sudden jerk of the cord coming down the side of the pole the cross bar was set to whirling rapidly and this frightened the birds until they tried to fly away. The parrot was chained fast and to make the aim more difficult, the other birds were fastened by strings of different lengths. The marksman must free each one of them and then hit it before it could escape. The first liberated was the blue jay. The Golden Hearted cut the cord neatly and wounded the bird while it was still rising. The arrow fell near the base of the pole bringing the right wing with it.
This won him the wreath, and he now turned to the wise men for a signal. They could demand the last three shots. Would they do it? He inclined his head toward them as one of the number picked up a black flag and waved it. There was an answering shout and a cheer, and the Golden Hearted prepared to shoot again. This time he aimed at the raven and cut the string near the pole. Its weight caused the captive to fly in an oblique line downward for a moment. Quick as a flash the second arrow sped and the raven fell to the ground pierced through the heart! Without looking to see what had happened the Golden Hearted shot at the dove and as it flew up in a circle everybody saw that it was unharmed.
Then they fought and struggled with each other for the privilege of carrying the victor off the grounds, but the Golden Hearted escaped through a side door and ran away as fast as he could. He did not wish to speak to any one nor have them see how unhappy he felt. He really was heartbroken because he had killed the raven.