American Indian life

by Unknown

In conclusion his uncle again took the lead, and put searching questions to him as to the condition of the people—how many heads of families were there in the tribe, and how many man-loads of corn were required to support the average family for a year? With which cities he should strive to ally himself, and which to avoid? How migration to Yucatan could best be discouraged? When the boy replied it could neither be discouraged nor prevented unless the Harvest Lord permitted corn to be grown on the savannas, a few of the older men shook their heads, but the great majority of the priests signified their approval of this sage answer. After these tests he was led from the monastery back to the palace, and later his uncle informed him that the priests had adjudged him to be worthy and well qualified to be made the True Man of the state.

The second day was even more strenuous than the first. The day was devoted to numerous rites of purification, in which by sweatings and blood-lettings he was supposed to be purged of all sin and wickedness, and thus fitted for the high office he was about to assume.

Following this the priests led him to the Temple of Purification. Here, in an inner chamber, he removed his clothes and crawled, naked, into a low stone closet. A bowl of water stood at the back of this low cell, and presently the priests passed in through the small doorway five or six large, rounded, heated stones wrapped in leaves. The doorway was now closed by a slab of stone, and Holon Chan dropped these heated bowlders, one at a time, into the bowl of water. Each succeeding bowlder raised the temperature of the water, and soon clouds of vapor filled the cell. From time to time more hot stones were passed in and the boy thus kept the water boiling. Beads of sweat broke out over his body; he almost suffocated, but still he served the steaming bowl with heated stones, and still the temperature rose. Every pore streamed and he gasped for breath. When it seemed as though he could stand it no longer, the slab was suddenly removed, the vapor rushed out and he was left panting and faint from the heat and his hunger, and the first step toward ceremonial purification was over.

Next they gave him a violent emetic, which left him completely prostrated from weakness. With the characteristic stoicism of his race, however, he uttered no complaint, but presently gained sufficient strength to pass on to the next trial, a cruel and painful letting of blood. His uncle bade him put out his tongue and through the end of it, he thrust a sharp stone awl. Waiting priests caught the blood on little balls of cotton and these were borne off to the sanctuary of Itzamna as an earnest of his faith and purification. At sunset a small fiber cord with thorns caught in it every few inches was passed through the still open wound, cruelly lacerating the flesh, and fresh blood drawn to offer to the god in renewed proof of his constancy of purpose. That night Holon Chan was so exhausted that he slept without stirring, until awakened before dawn to prepare himself for the long day of meditation and prayer in the sanctuary of Itzamna which preceded the actual investiture at sunset.

Preparations for this ceremony had been going forward now for a long time. It has been told how Itzamna had indicated that the investiture of the new True Man must coincide with the unveiling of the great stone shaft which had been erected to commemorate the end of the current five-year period of the Maya Chronological Era. As much as a year before, this shaft had been quarried, transported to the Great Plaza of Tikal, set up there and a high fence of thatch built around it to conceal it from the people until the moment of its unveiling.

Ahcuitok Chan in consultation with the most learned astrologer priests of the state had carefully calculated what would be the nearest solar and lunar eclipses to the day of dedication (then still nearly a year ahead). Other astronomical phenomena important during the current five-year period, had been compiled, together with a record of the principal events of the period. These matters had been written down in the Maya hieroglyphic writing, on pieces of fiber paper coated with a sizing of fine white lime, which served as working drawings for the artisans who were to carve the shaft; and finally the likeness of Holon Chan himself, gorgeously appareled as he would be at the ceremony of investiture, had been laboriously carved on the front. This monument, which was to mark the ending of the current five-year period, 9.18.0.0.0. 11 Ahau 18 Mac of the Maya Era, was at last ready, and would be unveiled at the proper moment, namely the instant of sunset on the closing day of the period. This had to be so, since to the Maya, time was conceived and measured in terms of elapsed units (like our own astronomical time), and not until the final day of the period came to its end, that is at sunset on the last day, could the monument commemorating that period be formally dedicated thereto.

But now all was in readiness for the great festival, upon which, as has been noted, so many and such high hopes had been builded. For the past several days, people had been pouring into Tikal. From the farthest outlying villages men, women and children were moving toward the religious and governmental center of the state. The surrounding savannas were filled with temporary shelters of thatch, and booths had sprung up everywhere for the barter of tortillas, beans, squash, sapotes, cacao, bush meats, gourds, pottery, mats, featherwork, hides, cotton stuffs, and even beads and pendants of jade, the most highly prized of all materials by the Maya.

The Great Plaza of Tikal had been filling with people since midnight, eager to catch the first glimpse of their future ruler as he was being conducted at daybreak to the sanctuary of Itzamna for prayer and meditation. His learning tried and tested by the wise men of the state on the first day; his body purged of sin and wickedness by rites of purification, and his fortitude and earnestness of purpose established by his giving of blood to Itzamna on the second day, there remained only that he should cleanse his soul of any lurking grossness, by prayer and meditation, and he would then be ready for the most solemn moment of his life, his formal consecration as the True Man of his people.

After rising, Holon Chan bathed, and donned again the simple girdle worn by common folk, in token that he had not yet received the supreme rank, and passed into the council chamber. Here all the great dignitaries of the state, the high priests of the different Maya deities, the chieftains of the dependent towns and villages, the collectors of taxes, deputies, and other officials had assembled in gala costume—magnificent cloaks of featherwork, gorgeous panaches of plumes, mantles of deer hide, heavy necklaces, pendants, ear-plugs, wristlets and anklets of jade—each in his bravest display. Naked male slaves stood about the council chamber with lighted torches of fat pine in their hands, for the hour of dawn had not yet come, and these cast a fitful light over the company. Outside on the terrace, in front of the palace, the musicians were assembled with long, wooden drums, rattles and flageolets.

High on the topmost point of the roof of the sanctuary of Itzamna stood a priest scanning the eastern horizon for the first sign of the orb of day. As dawn approached, the multitude stirred faintly and with common consent all eyes turned to the portals of the palace. Slaves with short staves were seen to open a passage through the crowd and stand on either side to keep the way cleared. Suddenly a piercing cry falls from above. “Lo, the Lord of Day cometh.” The musicians strike up, and move in ordered rank down the terrace stairway and across the plaza. First come temple boys with brooms, sweeping the way, followed by others swinging braziers of incense from which clouds of heavy, black, aromatic smoke wreath upward. Next appear the temple chanters clad in white, singing an ode of welcome to the Lord of Day; next, a troop of the palace guard in quilted cotton armor, armed with stone-pointed javelins and shields of skin. Following these are the lords of the dependent towns and villages, and the higher civil officers of the state; these last, with their gorgeous cloaks of featherwork, furnishing the brightest spot of color in the procession. Next are the lower orders of the priesthood of Itzamna, a long file of white-robed figures moving slowly forward.