By Right of Conquest; Or, With Cortez in Mexico

by G. A. Henty

After passing through several streets, Roger saw a great hill rising in front of him. Whether it was the work of man, or had a natural hill for its foundation, he knew not. It was four sided and pyramidal in form. There were terraces rising, one above the other, supported by stone walls. Steps at the angles led from one terrace to another, but these were so placed that anyone mounting had to pass right along the terrace round the pyramid, before he arrived at the steps leading to that above. The top of the pyramid seemed to be cut off, leaving an area of, as far as he could judge, some fifty feet square. Smoke ascended from the summit, where, as Malinche had told him, fire always burns before the altar in its center.

Just before reaching the foot of the pyramid, the governor pointed to a building of considerable size.

"Here you will see," he said, leading Roger towards a great gateway, "how well the god has been honored."

As he neared the gateway, Roger saw that the building was well-nigh filled with an immense pile, carefully built up, of what at first appeared to him cannon balls, only of larger size than any he had seen piled in the batteries of Plymouth, and of a white color. Then the thought struck him they were great turnips, or some such root, which might be held sacred to the god. But as he entered the building the truth flashed across him--the great pile was composed entirely of human skulls.

Roger had made up his mind that, although he would not give way in the slightest in the matter of his faith, he would yet abstain from shocking the religious feeling of the natives. After the first involuntary start at the discovery, he silenced his feelings, and asked how many skulls there were in the heap. He could not, however, understand the reply, as he had not yet mastered the Aztec method of enumeration, which was a very complicated one.

Roger walked along one side of the pile, counted the number of skulls in a line, and the number of rows, and then tried to reckon how many skulls there were. Roger was not quick at figures, although his father had tried hard to teach him to calculate rapidly, as it was necessary for one who traded, and bought and sold goods of all descriptions, to be able to keep his own figures; or he would otherwise be forced always to carry a supercargo, as was indeed the custom in almost all trading ships, for there were few masters who could read and write, far less keep accounts. However, as he found there were a hundred skulls in each line, and ten rows, and as the heap was nearly square, it was not a difficult task to arrive at the conclusion that there must be a hundred thousand skulls in the pile.

This seemed to him beyond belief, and yet he could arrive at no other conclusion. If a hundred thousand victims had been offered up, in one temple of this comparatively small city, what must be the total of men killed throughout the country? The pile had, no doubt, been a long time in growing, perhaps a hundred years; but even then it would give a thousand victims, yearly, in this one temple.

Although it seemed well-nigh impossible to Roger, it was yet by no means excessive, for according to the accounts of all historians, Mexican and Spanish, the number of victims slain, annually, on the altars of Mexico amounted to from twenty-five to fifty thousand.

"The god has good reason to be pleased?" the Aztec ambassador, who was watching Roger's face closely, remarked.

"If he is fond of blood and sacrifices, he should indeed be pleased," Roger said quietly; "but all gods do not love slaughter. Quetzalcoatl, your god of the air, he who loved men and taught them what they know--such a god would abhor sacrifices of blood. Offerings of fruit and flowers, which he taught men to grow, of the arts in which he instructed them, would be vastly more pleasing to him than human victims."