“The Azes, too—” Hanabusa was not allowed to finish his sentence.
“Thou art of our blood!” exclaimed the Guanches, in a breath.
“Never again shalt thou depart from us. Thou wert with the Dorado?”
“From the beginning,” he answered.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FINAL PEACE IS MADE WITH COSMIC LAW
These Guanches were splendid specimens of manhood, the remote forefathers of the warriors who, five hundred years ago, held their European conquerors at bay for more than a hundred years—never more than a handful of men at any time.
First the fierce and ruthless Normans, then the Portuguese, and lastly the Spanish, laid a destroying hand on the brave Guanches. Now, there is but little more than their goats left of the surviving Atlantians. These goats are of a Vandyke brown, with long twisted horns, venerable beards, and hair lengthening almost to a lion’s mane.
Teneriffe was the Island of the Blessed of the Hindus, the Elysian Fields of the Greeks, and the Tlapallapan of the Aztecs.
The Greeks had their Hermes; the Norsemen, Ymer; the Egyptians, Kema; all words correlated to, and having the same significance as Yermah,[[30]] which means the Divine Germ incarnate.
As El Dorado, his love nature was typified, but he transmuted passion, and became a god among men. He was Votan to the Quiches; to the Mayas, he was Kukulcan; and to the Peruvians he was Manco-capac—all types of the same character, and emanations from the same civilizing source.