“‘All this was by the command of your gods, the gods that now you have forgotten. But though the serpent passes, his trail still remains. Because of these things that you have done the gods are punishing you. They have forbidden the clouds to form and they have forbidden the rain to fall. They have forbidden the grain to germinate and the roots to sprout in forest or field. They have caused hosts of insects to devastate your stores and eat up your substance. They have brought upon you terrible diseases that your wise men and physicians cannot cure.’
“You ask what can be done to appease the anger of the gods. Now, the knowledge has come to me, through the ancient records and writings handed down from high priest to high priest since time began, that once before in the history of our people was the wrath of the gods, and especially the wrath of Yum Chac, the Rain God, kindled against us when we forgot his precepts and disobeyed his teachings.
“In that olden time beautiful maidens were sent to him as messengers, to plead for his forgiveness and to carry with them rich offerings of viands, flowers, and precious jewels. Thus was his ire appeased and fecundity restored to this unhappy land.
“My words are these: ‘Let us follow the ancient example. Let us go in solemn procession with maidens as chaste and lovely as the opening buds of the white pitahaya, to carry our plea to the god, and with our prayers let us send food and drink in fine vessels, the ripest fruit, the fattest grain, and our richest jewels. Thus may we hope to avert the divine wrath and restore to life our starving nation.’”
The kulel, the prime minister, then stepped forward. His form was bent, his hair gray, and his face seamed with lines of deep thought. His voice, though low and calm, was heard distinctly amid the crowding ranks of the common people.
Said he, “O Batab, ruler of the people, we have listened to the words of our pontiff and his words befit his high office. We listen to them with the respect due him as high priest and as the mouthpiece of the gods. To hear these words and the command they convey, is to obey without question.
“He who is ordered by those above to go upon a journey, surely goes if he is faithful. But he who goes upon such a journey without due preparation is not a good servant, for, by reason of his unpreparedness, he may be delayed, led astray, or otherwise impeded in carrying out the will of his master.
“Therefore let us think what this act of expiation requires us to do, and then consider how to do it with the least delay and without waste of life and effort. What we seek to gain is evident, for we all feel the pangs of hunger and have seen our nearest and dearest fade away and die. We have seen the grain and the fruit wither. We have seen our scant stores devoured by clouds of insects. We have seen our people wander into the deep forest seeking food and they have never returned.
“What we most desire is to appease the dread anger of our gods, that we may have once again food and health and happiness.
“We are all agreed that we must make sacrifice at the Sacred Well, the Chen Ku of Chi-chen Itza. The question is, then, how shall we reach the Sacred Well and how shall we make our sacrifice? The way is long, full of thorns, and covered with sharp stones. The thorns are the lance-points and the stones the pointed darts of the Cocomes, the Cochuahes, and the Cupules, our ancient enemies, through whom we must pass to reach the well. Either we must gain their permission to pass in peace and friendship or we must push our way through them by force of arms.