The Stories of El Dorado

by Frona Eunice Wait

"All the good we know comes from him, and when he returns all wrongs will be righted and every heart made to rejoice. He will give us everything we wish for."

Several times during the year whole nations would fast and do severe penance to induce him to come quickly. Not one of them could be made to believe that he was dead.

"No, no," they said, "he is asleep in the bosom of the sun. He will surely come again; he promised us he would."

Then they would get the idea that he was offended, and the kings would order great sacrifice to be made to appease him. In some places I am sorry to say they offered the quivering, bleeding hearts of human beings by the hundreds, but still he did not come. In other places they remembered his gentleness and only laid fruit, flowers and perfumes on the sacred fire altars which they still kept burning. There were many places where they carefully preserved his sayings by cutting them in sign language on the stones of the temples, and every child was taught to imitate his virtues and follow his example.

For several years before Columbus arrived the priests and wise men had been prophesying that the Golden Hearted was soon to return, that the sun was bringing him back, accompanied by companions like himself, who would rule over them. Not even the great-great-grandfathers of the men then living had seen the Golden Hearted, so they did not know how he looked, but their traditions said that he was a bearded white man, and we shall see by and by what a curious mistake this led them to make about the first white men who came to them after the discovery of America.

Before we can understand how such things could happen, we must remember that the people in Europe did not know there was an America, and that many of them had very queer ideas about the shape of the earth. Some said it was four-cornered and square like a dry goods box, and others thought it was round and flat like a plate, surrounded by water which finally changed into vapor and mist, and that whoever ventured far out into the misty clouds fell through and went—heaven knows where!

In the quaint old Italian city of Genoa was born a little boy named Christopher Columbus, who was to change all this, and be the innocent cause of much suffering to the descendants of the races who had been visited by the Golden Hearted. When a mere lad at school, he was greatly interested in boats, and he not only studied geography and history, but read all the books of travel he could find, and dreamed night and day of a great long voyage he was going to make on the ocean some time. He did not waste his time fishing and playing on the beach like other boys, but picked up the chips that washed ashore and examined them very carefully, because he believed that if there was an unknown land some where in the west, that the waves would bring something ashore from there. He was really quite an old man before he found anything, but one day he picked up some strange chips at Cadiz that had been cut by hand, and then he knew he was right.

Sailors always do have wonderful tales to tell about the sea, and in those days they were so superstitious that they were sure that there were huge monsters living in the distant waters just waiting to eat up any sailor foolish enough to venture near them. There was not one of them willing to listen to Columbus, when he tried to explain that the earth is round like an orange, and that we live on the outside of it. He said to them repeatedly:

"If we sail west steadily, we shall in time arrive back at the place from which we started." Finally, not only the sailors, but the people in the streets pointed their fingers at him and said:

"There goes the crazy old man, who thinks the world is as round as an apple."