The City of the Sacred Well

by T. A. Willard

“Let it be proclaimed from the temple that for their services in time of peace and for their brave acts in battle these three brothers shall henceforth be of the eagles and shall bear the regalia and wear the mask of the eagle in the sacred rites.” And so it was from that time on. The three brothers, known as the Three Eagles, wore the feathers and mask of the eagle in the sacred festivals and until after the coming of the later white men the figures of the Three Eagles were to be seen carved upon the walls of a temple in Mani.

Great was the enthusiasm and greater the joy at the message sent by the Batab of Zotuta to the Batab of Mani and the tale of the warm welcome given to the holpopes and the warmer one promised to the pilgrims.

Ah! could they but have seen the venomous look and the twisted smile that was hidden behind the unctuous softness of those pleasant-sounding words!

In the province of the Cocomes great preparation was made for the expected guests. At frequent intervals along their destined path from one village to another were placed arches made of saplings tied together and bent to the ground. Those at the entrance of each village were adorned with fresh vines and bright flowers until the curve of the arch was a solid mass of green leaves and fragrant blossoms. There were scarlet clusters of cutz-pol, or turkey-head, white sac-nute blooms, the frail blue jungle morning-glory, and the golden trumpets of the xkan-tol flower.

As the pilgrims reached each new village the head men and the most beautiful maids of the district came to meet and welcome them, the head men with the symbols of their authority and the maidens with gourds of cool sacca to quench the thirst of the travelers. And with songs of welcome they invited the tired but happy pilgrims to rest and then to feast in the village. As they neared Zotuta, where dwelt the batab, he and his councilors came forth to welcome them. The whole city, even to its most distant outskirts, was seething with the hum of preparation. Wild turkeys, wild pigs, green corn, big tubers, white, flaky, and succulent—all were being cooked underground with heated stones and surrounded with fragrant herbs after the manner and custom handed down from ancient times.

On came the pilgrims, heralded by groups of children and women singing and chanting words of welcome. At the feet of the pilgrims were strewn clusters of flowers and along the way were bowls of incense, so that the fragrant smoke pleased their nostrils. First came the priests and the nobles. Then came the lovely maidens chosen to be the messengers to the great god at the bottom of the Sacred Well, and these girl brides of the god were carried upon litters richly adorned and smoothly transported by trained bands of bearers. After them came the devotees, their arms filled with rich offerings. And last came captive warriors, men of fighting renown, esteemed for their valor to be worthy of sacrifice to the Rain God.

Thus with solemn joy and chanted welcome the pilgrims entered Zotuta, not only as pilgrims on a sacred mission but as an embassy bearing offerings of peace and good-will between brothers long estranged but now reconciled and reunited by the god to whom they would soon offer prayer and joint sacrifice at the Sacred Well.

Soon came the feasting, the religious games, and at last the solemn ritual of the Sacred Dance. The hours passed too pleasantly and sweetly to be heeded, until drooping lids could no longer stay open and the pilgrims were conducted to the group of houses that had been set aside for their use.

In the cool darkness that precedes the first gleam of dawn, that time when the whole world sleeps, the Cocomes in the houses beyond the palm-thatched dwellings where the pilgrims lay and the pilgrims themselves—all were buried deep and sound in slumber. Then silent, shadowy forms swiftly surrounded the quiet houses where the pilgrims rested in fancied security.

Red tongues of flame, smokeless because of the dry materials upon which they fed, shot up from each house corner and like snakes crawled along the thatched roofs. Before the sleepers could arouse to their danger the big structures were roaring and crackling, each a huge funeral pyre.