He counted over the seeds of the By-otle and knew 261 that there were enough to make even a strong man dream of joy while under torture.
After that he dared look more closely into the shifting lights of the sacred fire stone, and the Castilians in the camp below, and the guards on the level above, and the plotting woman, and her regained slave and master heard the call of the Flute, and intonings of sacred songs from the century old dwelling of the Po-Ahtun.
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“The battle is here! The battle of gods is here! The flowers of shields have bloom, The death flowers grow! Among that bloom shall homes be made, Among the bloom shall we build fair homes. Brothers:––drink deep of warrior wine, For our enemies we build homes! Eat:––eat while there is bread. Drink––drink while there is water. A day comes when the air darkens, When a cloud shall darken the air, When a mountain shall be lifted up, When eyes shall be closed in death, Eat––eat while there is bread, Drink––drink of warrior wine!”[A] |
Book of Chilan Balam.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE BATTLE ON THE MESA
The stars had marked the middle of the night, and the Castilian camp slept, save for the guards who paced quietly through the pine groves, and the Te-hua sentinels on the summit above, who rested in silence at the places where footholds carved by pre-historic Lost Others in the face of the rock wall, afforded a trail for the enemy if the enemy could find it.