Our glimpses of the residences we passed filled us with wonder and admiration. Highly polished marble, ornate and artistic carvings, exquisite tropical shrubbery, closely mowed lawns, fountains, cornices and ornaments of wrought gold were everywhere visible. The approaches to some of the finer dwellings were paved with layers of golden sheets, riveted together and in some instances bordered with fine rubies and other gems. Gold seemed the most abundant metal the Tcha possessed, and they had a secret way of hardening it that rendered it as durable as steel, without impairing its beauty.
Approaching nearer and nearer to the south wall of the mountain enclosing the valley, we at last reached the most impressive and extensive building of all—the Temple of the Sun. Ample grounds surrounded the huge, majestic pile, enclosed by marble walls ten feet in height, which were supplemented by a six-foot ornamental railing of elaborately worked gold. The entrance gates were likewise of gold, and bore in the center of each a highly polished representation of the sun shedding its rays in every direction.
News of our coming had evidently preceded us, for the great gates at once swung inward to receive us and a group of tall priests, most of them advanced in years, stood ready to admit the devoted band of prisoners to the sacred precincts. The official did not pass the gates. He reverently removed his casque and said:
“Holy fathers, to your keeping I confide the condemned. They now belong to our mother, the divine and adorable High Priestess of our god, the Sun.” Then, turning to us he continued in an earnest tone: “Destiny directs all human life. You are brave men, strangers, and are prepared to well fulfill the decree of Destiny. Being on the threshold of the great Hereafter, I give you greetings and good wishes. May your journey be peaceful and swift.”
Without awaiting our thanks for this doleful farewell he turned and departed, while with small ado we were marched through the gates and allowed to hear them swing shut behind us, the ring of their golden bars sounding like a knell in my ears. According to the best calculations of the Tcha we were never to pass this barrier again, either alive or dead.
Directly facing the gates was the great temple, entered by a broad flight of steps and composed of four walls, roofless and open to the rays of the Sun. Entirely separated from this main building were two others of smaller dimensions but much more elaborate. That at the right had a separate enclosure and was connected with the temple by a peristyle; the other, toward which we were directed, stood alone.
This, we found, was the palace of the High Priest and the residence of the numerous priests of the sun. The leaders of the reception committee were diverse. One was a wild-eyed, ascetic looking fellow who glared at us but kept silent; the other proved a kindly-faced man who treated us with marked respect.
After giving us a cool and refreshing beverage to drink—it reminded me of lemonade—we were taken to the presence of the High Priest, a doddering, withered old individual who seemed to have lived far beyond his allotted time and was drowsing contentedly when we disturbed him. He woke up to stare at us a moment, then waved us away, saying to our escort:
“They belong to the great god, the Sun. Cherish them; treat them tenderly, as befits those to be prepared for the sacrifice.”
At the moment we were inclined to resent this. None of us, I am sure, had any desire to become a sacrificial offering. But as we left the High Priest, who had fallen asleep again even before he had finished speaking, Chaka congratulated us on our good fortune.