Chapter Thirteen.
Their First Day in Ulua.
With the rising of the sun on the following morning, the camp became a scene of bustling activity, the soldiers grooming, feeding, and watering their horses, while a little army of servitors bestirred themselves in the kindling of fires and the preparation of a meal, prior, as the two white men surmised, to a start for the city.
Whatever might be the climatic conditions in the valley later on in the day, the early morning air was fresh, cool, and fragrant, with the mingled odours of rich pastures, luxuriant cornfields, orchards, and gardens, brilliant with many-hued flowers.
As Earle and Dick emerged from their tent, fresh and buoyant after a sound night’s sleep, the troopers, very lightly clad, were mounting their horses, bare-backed, with the evident intention of taking the animals down to the lake; and the idea occurred to Dick and Earle simultaneously, that there was nothing in the world they so ardently desired at that moment as a dip in the lake, which, gently ruffled by the lightest and most balmy of zephyrs, lay shimmering invitingly in the sunshine some two miles away. With one accord, therefore, they advanced toward where the horsemen, now mounted, awaited the word of command to march. Most of the troopers had only their own individual horses to look after, but there were some twenty or so who were each also in charge of a led horse, and walking up to a couple of these, the two white men took from the somewhat surprised but submissive soldiers a horse apiece, and vaulting upon the animals’ bare backs, lined up alongside the officer in command, who received them with a respectful salute. Half an hour later, Dick and Earle were sporting in the lake like a couple of mermen, to the amazement and admiration of the Uluans, not one of whom appeared to possess the most elementary knowledge of swimming. The temperature of the water was just right to render a swim both invigorating and enjoyable, and when at length the two friends returned to camp, they were in excellent form to do justice to the breakfast which they found awaiting them.
The journey from the foot of the cliff road where the camp had been pitched, round the south-eastern extremity of the lake and so to the city, was taken at an easy pace, to spare the cattle which drew the camp carts, in which room had been found for Earle’s impedimenta as well as for a few of the Indians, while those not so accommodated made no difficulty of running or walking beside the carts. The journey was devoid of incident, but the ride was an exceedingly pleasant one, since the road wound its way for the whole distance through fields and orchards, the flourishing condition of which bore eloquent testimony to the richness of the soil and the agricultural skill of the inhabitants. Here and there farms were passed which were devoted to the raising of horses, cattle, sheep, and goats, and the splendid condition of the animals was a source of constant admiration to the two white men.
The city was reached about noon, but long before then the strangers had begun to realise the splendour and magnificence of it. A peculiarity of it was that it had no suburbs, the farm lands coming right up to the gardens of the outermost houses of the city, which clustered as thickly on its outskirts as in its heart. A further peculiarity was that there were no rows of houses; each was completely detached and stood in its own grounds, the only difference being that some of the buildings were larger, more ornate, and had more extensive gardens than others. The buildings, though by no means overloaded with ornament, were exceedingly handsome in a quiet, chaste style, which Earle said reminded him very forcibly of certain Pompeiian houses; much of the ornamentation consisting of painted designs upon the white walls. All the houses appeared to be flat-roofed, and many of them had gardens on the roofs, the shrubs and trees showing over the low parapets. Others were covered with gay awnings, beneath which some of the occupants could be seen taking their ease in hammocks. The Uluans appeared to be passionately fond of flowers, the gardens being full of them, while their condition evidenced the care with which they were tended. Fountains, too, abounded, some of those adorning the public squares being of very curious and elaborate design. The streets were very wide, few being less than a hundred feet in width, while some were considerably wider, with narrow strips of garden running down the centre, full of the most exquisite flowers interspersed with umbrageous trees. Trees also overshadowed the rather narrow sidewalks.
Ulua, however, was by no means a city devoted exclusively to luxury. There was evidently a considerable amount of business done there also, for some of the streets were occupied entirely by shops, though who, except the inhabitants, patronised them, was a question, since all the indications pointed to the fact that there was no trade done with the outside world. The commodities exposed for sale seemed to consist mainly of fruit, vegetables, flowers, confectionery, what looked like bread in various fanciful shapes, embroideries, jewellery, silks, soft woollen materials, paintings, lamps and lanterns, harness, and other goods too numerous to mention.
What surprised the visitors most of all, perhaps, in
this wonderful city was the extraordinarily lavish use made of gold; to them it appeared that everything that could possibly be made of gold was of that metal; and it was not until some time afterwards that they learned that gold was the most common of the metals with the Uluans, who valued it only because of its untarnishability and beauty of colour.
The wider thoroughfares, squares, and the spacious public gardens through which the cavalcade passed contained a fair number of people, although the visitors discovered, later on, that this was the hour when most of the inhabitants who were not called abroad by business preferred to remain in the seclusion of their own houses and gardens, this being the hottest hour of the day. Naturally, Earle and Dick regarded with some curiosity the people who paused to regard them as they passed, and they came to the conclusion that, on the whole, the Uluans were a distinctly attractive-looking people, the women especially reminding Earle of the Italians, not only as regarded the regularity of their features, but also in the grace of their form and carriage.
At length the cavalcade came to a halt in a spacious and beautiful square, situated, as the visitors judged, in about the centre of the city. One side of this square was entirely occupied by an enormous, lofty, and handsome building, the central portion of which was surmounted by an immense dome, covered with plates of gold, arranged in tiers or bands of different shapes among which that of the lozenge was the most conspicuous, while each corner of the building was crowned with a smaller dome, similarly covered and ornamented. Each of the five domes bore on its summit, as a sort of finial, the figure of a winged serpent, half of its body being arranged in a coil, while the other half, with outstretched wings, was upreared in a graceful curve. A similar figure crowned a large and beautiful fountain which occupied the centre of the square, and it was noticeable that every individual who passed this figure halted and bowed profoundly to it, from which the two white men inferred that the winged serpent was a sacred symbol, evidently held in the highest veneration. This surmise ultimately proved to be correct, the winged serpent being the figure of the Uluan god Kuhlacan, who was believed to dwell at the bottom of the lake, in its centre, and at whose annual festival sacrifices of jewels of immense value were made by casting them with much ceremony into the lake, from richly decorated boats. The building with the five golden domes was, of course, the temple, sacred to Kuhlacan, in which the god was daily worshipped. Earle, whose aesthetic sense was stirred by the beauty of the fountain and the wonderful workmanship of the figure surmounting it, directed Dick’s particular attention to it and descanted at some length upon the taste of the design; and Dick, while listening to his companion, could not fail to observe that Acor, the officer in charge of the escort, as well as the members of the escort, and indeed all who were gathered in the square at the moment, regarded Earle intently, with an expression of mingled wonder and satisfaction. Acor waited respectfully while Earle was speaking and, when the latter had finished, gave the order to dismount.
At a signal from one of the officers, two troopers advanced and took charge of the horses which Earle and Dick had been riding, and then Acor, bowing respectfully to the pair, invited them by word and gesture to follow him into a building on the opposite side of the square from the temple.
This building, which, like the temple, occupied an entire side of the square, was much more elaborate, from an architectural point of view than the sacred edifice, the design of which was chaste, majestic, and rather severe, while its vis-à-vis—which proved to be the royal palace—was ornate and decorative in effect. It consisted of an immense block of buildings, arranged in the form of a hollow square enclosing a magnificent garden, adorned with many beautiful fountains and statues, access to which was gained through a wide and lofty archway closed by a pair of immense and beautiful gates, modelled apparently in bronze, the archway and gates being so treated as to form a distinctive feature in the general design of the building.
As Acor and his two companions approached the archway the great gates swung open, actuated by some unseen agency, and the trio passed through, saluted, as they went, by the two impassive sentries who stood on guard.
Wheeling sharply round to the left as soon as they had passed through the archway, Acor conducted his charges along a wide pathway paved with slabs of variegated marble, until they reached a lofty doorway, entering which, Earle and Dick found themselves in a spacious lofty hall, the temperature of which was delightfully cool compared with the blazing sunshine outside. They appeared to be expected, for upon their entrance, a little group of men, whose rich attire seemed to proclaim them palace officials, came forward and bowing low, were introduced by Acor, who simply pointed to each man and pronounced his name. This done, the captain of the guard gravely and respectfully saluted his charges and retired, leaving them in the hands of the little group of supposed officials.
One of these, an elderly man of very dignified mien and presence, whom Acor had named Bahrim, and who afterward turned out to be the major-domo of the palace, at once stepped forward and with a low bow, signed the two white men to follow him. He led the way to one side of the hall, where a noble staircase of elaborately sculptured marble swept upward to a wide gallery running round three of the walls, and ascending this, Earle and Dick were presently inducted into a suite of three lofty and luxurious rooms, two of which were furnished as sleeping-chambers, while the third, lighted by two lofty window openings, shaded by sun blinds, looked out over the garden. The rooms were all most sumptuously furnished, the furniture, of quaint but graceful design, being made, for the most part, of rare and beautiful woods, richly carved. In each of the sleeping-chambers there was a large marble bath, already filled with water, and on each of the couches was set out a change of apparel.
With a wave of the hand, Bahrim indicated the rooms and their contents generally, and said a few words, from the tone of which Earle judged him to be asking whether they were satisfactory; for when Earle carelessly nodded an affirmative, Bahrim smiled, as though with gratification, and clapped his hands. This proved to be a summons to two attendants, who instantly entered and made their obeisances to the white men. These Bahrim introduced by the simple process of pointing to one and saying, “Shan,” and to the other, saying, “Raba.”
“Thanks,” said Earle; “that will do nicely.” Then, as Bahrim respectfully bowed himself out, the American turned to his friend and remarked:
“Say, Dick, how is this for high? Some lodging, this. What? I wonder how long it is to lunch time? That ride has proved a fine appetiser in my case. But those baths look good. Guess I’ll have a dip now. I suppose these two guys are to be our servants. Which one will you have?”
“Oh,” answered Dick, “either of them will do for me. They both look reasonably decent chaps. Take your choice.”
“Right!” said Earle. “Then I guess I’ll have Shan, because I think his name is the easiest to remember. Come along, Shan, and help me to get out of these togs. I’m going to have a bath. See?”
Shan apparently saw, which indeed was not difficult, since Earle pointed toward the bath as he spoke. The man bowed and turned to help Earle rid himself of his clothes, while Dick, beckoning to Raba, retired to the other sleeping-chamber, and a few minutes later was also luxuriating in the coolness of the bath.
Refreshed by their dip and a delicious luncheon, the two friends were seated in the deep embrasure of one of the unglazed windows of their sitting-room, Earle lazily smoking as he and Dick discussed the advisability of sallying forth, a little later, to learn the geography of the town, when they were interrupted by the appearance of Bahrim, the major-domo, accompanied by two other men, whom he introduced respectively as Zorah and Kedah.
The former was a tall, thin, ascetic-looking man of probably sixty or sixty-five years of age. He had doubtless been, in his prime, an exceedingly handsome man, for, even now, his features were well modelled and clean cut, but his sallow skin was deeply wrinkled about the forehead, eyes, and the wings of his nostrils—his mouth and chin were hidden by a thick moustache and long, straggling grey, almost white beard. A few thin wisps of long white hair escaped from the back part of the turban which covered his head, and fell to the level of his shoulders. But perhaps the most striking feature of him after his thin, hawk-like nose, was his eyes, which were large, black and piercing. He was attired in a dress which was a replica in every respect of that which had been provided for Earle, and his carriage, as he entered the apartment, was assured, haughty, almost arrogant, that of a man of high and assured position who possessed a profound faith in himself.
He bowed to Earle with a gesture of restrained humility which contrasted oddly with the hauteur of his expression, and striding up to the American, laid his two thin, talon-like hands upon the other’s shoulders, and turned him round until Earle fully faced the light. Then, bending forward, he intently scrutinised the queer jewel, or talisman, which Earle now wore fully exposed to view. And as he did so, the expression of almost defiant pride which his features had worn upon his entrance, gradually relaxed until it vanished and gave place to one of humble conviction. Then, laying the extremities of his fingers to his forehead, he bowed very low and backing away from Earle, gradually bowing himself out of the chamber.
Meanwhile, the other man, Kedah, had stood, a profoundly interested and impressed spectator of the short scene. He, too, was an elderly man, short, rather inclined to be stout, and bald-headed save for two thick tufts of white hair that sprouted over his ears. He was attired very much like Earle, except that the garniture of his robe was emerald green, instead of turquoise blue; also, instead of a turban, he usually wore a small, close-fitting skull cap of green silk, which he had removed upon entering the apartment. In one hand he carried, as well as his skull cap, a rather clumsy-looking umbrella of green silk, modelled somewhat after the pattern of the Japanese article, while the other hand grasped a roll of what looked like thin parchment.
Upon the departure of Zorah, Kedah laid aside his umbrella and skull cap and, respectfully motioning the two white men to be seated, drew forward a small table, upon which he unrolled the parchment, revealing the fact that its inner surface was covered with small but beautifully executed drawings of a multitude of objects, such as men, women, boys, girls, infants, horses, cattle, sheep, etc. To several of these he pointed in turn, giving each its proper designation in the Uluan tongue, making his pupils—for such they were—repeat the words several times after him until they had caught the correct accent. Then, after he had named some twenty objects, he harked back to the beginning again, pointing to each object and then, by expressive motions of his hands and bushy eyebrows, requiring them to repeat as many of the names as they could remember. In this fashion they proceeded for about an hour and a half, by which time the two white men had mastered the designations of some fifty objects and were enabled to repeat them when pointed at haphazard. Kedah graciously expressed his satisfaction at their progress in a flow of words accompanied by so much action and spoken in such a tone that there was little difficulty in understanding his general meaning. This system of tuition was continued day after day, accompanied by a gradual extension of the hours of study, and, after the first week, by the introduction of short sentences, such as: “This is a table. That is a picture. There is a man. Yonder go a woman and child. Observe that crowd of people,” and so on, the sentences gradually lengthening and becoming more intricate, so that by the end of two months, Kedah’s pupils were not only able to gather the general sense of most of what was said to them, but also intelligibly to ask for almost anything they required.
Meanwhile, during the progress of that first lesson, certain muffled exclamations, accompanied by the sounds of heavy breathing and scuffling feet, reached the ears of the pupils from the adjoining apartments; and when, upon the conclusion of the lesson they entered those apartments, Dick and Earle had the satisfaction of finding that all their belongings had been brought up and were neatly stowed away; also that Inaguy and Moquit, two of their Indian followers, had been added to their staff of servants. And from these men they also received the satisfactory information that the rest of the Indians were lodged together and being well cared for in a chamber beneath the palace.
The afternoon was by this time so far advanced that the two white men felt they might safely venture to sally forth and see something of the city, without much fear of being unduly incommoded by the heat, and they were also curious to ascertain how far they were free agents to come and go as they pleased; they resolved, therefore, to put the matter to the test without further ado. Accordingly, each thrusting a pair of fully loaded automatics into his belt, as a measure of precaution against possible contingencies, they left their apartments and, descending the stairs, made their way to the garden quadrangle, from whence they passed, without interference, into the grand square, receiving the salute of the sentry at the gates as they went.
The temple, situate on the opposite side of the square, was naturally the first object to claim their attention, and observing that its great main entrance doors stood wide open, the pair sauntered across the square, reverentially saluted as they went by everyone they met, and passing up the long flight of steps leading to the open doorway, they boldly entered the building.
It was a magnificent structure, the rich and lavish ornamentation of its interior making ample amends for the severity of its exterior design. The four corners of the building were occupied by spacious rooms, or possibly subsidiary chapels, the doors of which were closed, but the main or principal temple was open, and into this the two friends boldly made their way, Earle declaring to Dick that he was determined to put to the test the exact measure of independence and power which the possession of the talisman conferred upon him, which he believed to be almost supreme, judging by the extraordinary reverence and veneration with which it had thus far been regarded by the Uluans.
The main temple was far and away the most spacious interior which either of them had thus far seen, Earle, after running his eye over it, expressing the opinion that its floor would accommodate at least twenty thousand persons comfortably. It was rectangular in shape, its longest dimension running east and west. Its main walls were about sixty feet high, tinted turquoise blue—as was the ceiling—with decorative designs in white. It was lighted by windows in the sides, fitted with slats instead of glass, so carefully adjusted that while admitting a sufficiency of light—when one’s eyes became accustomed to the semi-obscurity—they effectually excluded rain. The centre of the ceiling was pierced by a circular aperture about one hundred feet in diameter, above which rose the majestic dome which, from the outside, had already attracted their admiring attention. This dome was supported by four enormous columns connected by arches, and its interior, while shrouded in gloom, was a mass of subdued scintillating colour, as though it were encrusted with innumerable gems and glowing enamels. The eastern wall of the interior was remarkable from the circumstance that it bore a gigantic replica of the jewel, or talisman, which Earle wore—a fact which finally and definitely confirmed the conviction already arrived at by the American that the possession of the ornament conferred upon him almost supernatural powers and authority. At a distance of some twenty feet from this eastern wall there was an immense figure—or statue—of the Winged Serpent, reproduced in the middle of the square and on the domes of the temple, and before it stood a very large altar which bore evidences that sacrifices were continually offered upon it.
Upon entering the building the two friends were under the impression that it was empty; but they had scarcely been in it ten minutes, and were standing before the altar, studying the marvellous modelling of the Winged Serpent, when a strain of music smote upon their ears, and the next moment a curtain parted and a company of priests, some sixty in number, of whom about a third were playing upon quaint-looking musical instruments, filed into the building, headed by Zorah, their acquaintance of an hour or two earlier. Advancing with slow and solemn steps they halted before the two friends and, after bowing profoundly to Earle, broke into a slow and solemn chant, which gradually changed into a kind of triumphal hymn, at the conclusion of which they again bowed until their foreheads almost touched the pavement, and then filed out again.
The two white men, completely taken aback by the solemnity and unexpectedness of this apparently impromptu ceremony, knew not what to do, and therefore did nothing, which, as afterwards transpired, was the wisest course they could possibly have adopted. For, although they were quite unaware of it at the moment, their every movement was being carefully watched, and when they entered the temple, Zorah, the high priest, was instantly informed of the fact; whereupon he marshalled his subordinate priests and carried out the ceremony above recorded, in order to do honour to the individual who, in virtue of his possession of the mysterious jewel bearing the “sign” of Kuhlacan, the Winged Serpent, was implicitly believed to be either Kuhlacan’s special ambassador to the Uluans, or, possibly, a human incarnation of Kuhlacan himself. The ceremony brought home a vague inkling of this state of affairs to both of the individuals most intimately concerned, and Earle, while expressing some embarrassment and dislike of the position in which he found himself placed, announced to Dick his determination to accept it, in the hope and belief that, before leaving Ulua, it might be his good fortune to wield the authority with which he was endowed for the benefit and advantage of the people, and quite possibly, the correction of abuses.
Leaving the temple, the two friends passed out of the square and entered a road which attracted them because of its extraordinary width, the magnificence of its shade trees, the beauty of its central strip of garden, the sumptuous character of its buildings, and the air of dignity and well-being which seemed to characterise the people who were promenading it. Taken altogether, it appeared to be Ulua’s most aristocratic quarter, or at least its most fashionable promenade, for the men and women who thronged it were all elegantly dressed, and all had the air of belonging to the leisured class, while the roadway was thickly sprinkled with elegant and beautifully decorated chariots, drawn by teams of two, or sometimes three, handsome horses, driven by young men who appeared to be inviting the admiration of Ulua’s fair ones.
Still unobtrusively followed by a palace official, the two friends wended their way down the street, receiving the respectful homage of all who passed them. They had traversed about half the length of the street, which was about two miles long, when suddenly loud and excited cries arose behind them, punctuated by the quick clatter of galloping hoofs, and wheeling round, they beheld a beautiful chariot, the body, wheels, and pole of which were entirely covered with plates of embossed gold, coming careering along the road toward them at full speed, and swerving wildly from side to side of the road as it came, the two cream stallions which drew it having evidently bolted.
The man who drove was doing his best to regain control of his terrified and mettlesome animals, and at the same time to avoid the chariots ahead of him, the drivers of which hurriedly drew in towards the sides of the road to give the runaways a free passage; but the lad—for he was apparently still in his teens—might as well have attempted to control the elements; the horses had got their heads and seemed determined not to stop until they were tired, while it was evident that a very serious accident was inevitable, the road being thronged with vehicles, horsemen and pedestrians—the latter seeming to use the roadway quite as much as the footpaths.
And even as Dick and Earle halted and turned to ascertain the cause of the commotion, the wildly careering chariot collided with another, a wheel of which it sheared off, while the impact of the two vehicles jolted the driver of the runaways off his feet and flung him violently into the road, where he lay motionless.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Dick, as the two creams came tearing along, with the reins trailing in the roadway, “the brutes will not only kill themselves, but dozens of people as well, if they are not stopped!” And before Earle could reply, or do anything to restrain him, the lad sprang into the roadway, close to the path of the runaways, and braced himself for a spring. The next instant the frantic horses were upon him; but meanwhile, with a leap, Dick had started to run in the same direction as the horses, and as they tore past, with one hand he snatched at the reins and got them, while with the other, he gripped the rear of the chariot and swung himself into it. Then, gripping the reins with a firm hand, and shouting all the time to warn those ahead, he brought a steady strain to bear upon the horses’ mouths, guiding them meanwhile as best he could. And almost immediately his pull upon the reins began to tell, for his thews and sinews, hardened and tempered to the strength of steel by his long tramp from the banks of the Amazon, were very different from those of the effeminate youth who had been thrown out; and after traversing a couple of hundred yards, the animals acknowledged themselves beaten and came to a standstill without having done further damage. Then, turning the sweat-lathered animals gently round, Dick drove them at a foot pace, snorting and curvetting, back to the spot where the owner, still insensible, lay upon the footpath, being tended by sympathisers, of whom Earle was one. As Dick came up and dismounted from the chariot, which he surrendered to an official, he was greeted with loud plaudits, the people clapping their hands and shouting “Aha! aha!”
They made way for him as he came up and joined Earle, who was already bending over the insensible charioteer, feeling the youth’s body and limbs.
“Any damage done?” he inquired, as he came to a stand and looked down on his friend.
“Hillo! you back?” returned Earle. “You’ve soon done the trick, Dick. Did you manage to stop ’em without hurting anybody else?”
“Yes, luckily,” answered Dick. “Pulled ’em up, and brought ’em back again. They’re in the road there, now, in charge of a fellow who, I suppose, is a sort of policeman. Is that dude hurt at all?”
“Left arm broken; but that seems to be the full extent of the damage,” answered Earle. “If I could get a couple of sticks and a bandage, I’d set it while he is still insensible. Just see if you can find anything that will do, Dick, there’s a good chap.”
Dick looked about him, but could see nothing at all suitable until his gaze happened to fall upon the window of a house opposite him, which was closed by a kind of jalousie shutter. A couple of slats from this shutter would serve excellently, and without ceremony he wrenched two of them out and, breaking them into suitable lengths, handed them to Earle. Then, while the latter brought the ends of the fractured bone into position and held them there, Dick adjusted the splints, as directed by Earle, afterwards assisted by a bystander, binding them firmly into position with the folds of his turban, which he unwound for the purpose.
By the time that this was done the friends of the injured man had been summoned and were on the spot; and to them Earle handed over his patient, directing them by signs what to do, after which the two friends returned to the palace, amid the admiring murmurs of all whom they encountered.