“Haille! Haille!” spearsmen and school children shouted in chorus, only desisting when the garden gates were reached, and the party halted for a final exchange of courtesies. Kerœcia turned to Orondo.
“I love these kind, good-hearted people,” she said.
“Small wonder that they should love thee in return. The Monbas are not the only men willing to die for thee.” The flush on his face, his earnestness of manner and speech, should have warned Kerœcia; but at that moment, she was intently examining the sculpture on the stone aqueduct, here emptying into an artificial lake. Realizing the situation, Orondo was quick to turn it to advantage.
“I have a feeling of kinship with this body of water, since it is mine by right of plan and construction. The gardens are my special charge. We of Aztlan have choice of occupation, and I have sole command over this spot.”
“Thou art generously endowed with the sense of the beautiful,” she returned, in appreciation. “I am curious to know why this curbing is not in straight, but in wavy lines.”
“Because it is a meander imitating a river of spiritual force. The carving, also, conveys the same idea.”
The party had crossed the avenue leading from the market walls to the Temple of Neptune. The aqueduct surrounded the outside enclosure, and was built of solid sandstone and masonry, supported by arches of the same. The water in the canal came from Lake La Honda and skirted Blue Mountain. Where it emptied into Ohaba Lake, in the gardens, it made a pretty cascade over a profusion of rocks and water-plants.
To the right of the market was a sun-dial, which was a colossal bronze figure of a full-armored warrior thrusting furiously at his own shadow. This statue, of perfect model and workmanship, was placed on a pivot which revolved once in every twenty-four hours. At the feet was a glass dial, whose grains of gold slipped out at stated intervals, one at a time, sticking fast on the quicksilver bed prepared for them. The warrior could only scowl at, and threaten the shining hours.
When the sun at rising darted a direct shadow by the gnomon, or machete, in the hand of a soldier, and at its height, or mid-day, the figure made no shade, the populace adorned it with leaves and odoriferous herbs. Then they placed a chair made of choice cut-flowers on top of the helmet, saying that the sun appeared on his most glittering throne. After this, with great ostentation and rejoicings, they made offerings of gold, silver and precious stones.