CHAPTER SEVEN
KEŒCIA VISITS THE ENCHANTED GARDENS
It was called the “Lifting of Banners” the day that the high-priestess, Kerœcia, arrived in Tlamco and the anniversary was for centuries after, celebrated with much pomp and ceremony.
Stout ropes of similar fiber to that in use to-day were stretched from the inner to the outer circle of obelisks. At regular intervals along these lines were strung bits of cotton cloth in octavos of coloring, alternating square and triangular shapes with innumerable devices painted upon them.
Pennants of the priesthood, of the civic federation, and of the innumerable clans, were everywhere afloat on the breeze, while Iaqua was a mass of Monbas streamers, banners and flags. All of the balsas flew the colors of the high-priestess, and there was a splendid escort pageant along the canal.
When Kerœcia approached the landing, long lines of citizens extended from Iaqua to the water’s edge. As Yermah led the way in a state chariot, a deafening shout arose. The wheels fairly flew over the causeway as the thoroughbred horses galloped in even step under Yermah’s steady hand. Kerœcia stood beside him happy and smiling graciously.
The chariot was of ivory and gold, resplendent with jewels. The hub of each wheel was a golden sunburst, while the twelve spokes representing the signs of the zodiac, were outlined with appropriate gems and colors. This gorgeous state vehicle was drawn by three white horses caparisoned in creamy white and gold with rows of jewels and crests of tropic plumage held in place with long twisted ropes of yellow silk. A canopy of the same flaming yellow fabric intricately brocaded, protected the occupants from the sun.
Yermah wore a white chamois tunic, rich with gold embroideries, his head being covered with a helmet of the same metal. His mantle was a gorgeous feather mosaic of bronze green. In addition to a sword, he carried a circular shield of bronze, in the center of which was a dragon and in the outer edge were seven rings. The four seasons were also shown. The scenes represented plowing, seed-time, harvest, and winter surrounded by a meander symbolizing the ocean.
Kerœcia was enveloped in a mantle of ermine, lined with the soft gray breast of sea-gulls. On her head was a rainbow band of silk fastened in front by a jeweled aigrette. Both Kerœcia and Yermah wore the full decoration and insignia of their rank. The out-riders and attendants were mounted and equipped as befitted their station. Even Oghi, chained to the back of the chariot, seemed to enjoy the pageant.
The main entrance to Iaqua was on the south side, where the massive double-doors of the vestibule led to a terrace which was approached by broad, low steps. There were eight of these flights, and it required three more steps to reach the threshold which was of pink-veined marble. On each side of the rows of steps were slightly raised flat pedestals surmounted by groups of statuary of well-known Atlantian heroes. These burnished figures were made of that peculiar bronze amalgam, known only to the ancients, which never lost its original brilliancy, and being exceptionally hard was also of fine color.
There was a colonnade of massive marble pillars supporting a frieze and entablature. Above this was a flat roof surrounded by a parapet breast-high. The outside walls were of marble veneer unpolished and laid like rubble over the thick adobe bricks.
Once inside the vestibule, a scene of splendor greeted the eye. On the right, or eastern side of the entrance, was the rising sun-god driving his four horses out of the sea, the group being of flawless marble and of heroic size. The sunburst around the head of the figure, the trappings of the horses, and the trimmings of the chariot were of virgin gold.
On the left, or western side, the moon-goddess was represented as driving her horses into the sea. She was seated on the back of one and guiding the other six. This group was cut in black marble and profusely ornamented with silver.
The square vestibule was finished in hard woods, richly carved and polished. Rare and choice skins were stretched upon the inlaid floor, and there was a rose-jar of fine pottery at each side of the door. Richly carved chairs outlined the walls, while perfumed lamps hung above the mantel, beneath which glowed a bed of live coals. Placed over the blaze, on a thin glass rod, was a small ball of spongy platinum. The lamp was lighted and allowed to burn until the ball became a lurid red, after which the flame was extinguished, leaving the ball incandescent for a long time, gently heating the perfumed oil and sending a delicious fragrance throughout the room.
The vestibule opened into an interior court where a fountain played and birds of gay plumage kept up an incessant noise. Pet animals roamed at will. Seats were provided in the shady nooks and cushions for the tessellated floors. There was a colonnade in the inner court, similar in style to the outer one. The balcony overhead was of carved onyx surmounted by a veritable garden of rare plants in handsome pots, trellised and interlaced across the open space. A pyramidal fountain in an octagonal basin, placed in the center, was supported by eight huge bronze lions.
On the north, adjoining Yermah’s private apartments, were the reception rooms and banquet-halls. It was into the former that Kerœcia and her women were conducted while the men were made comfortable in the Hall of Ambassadors, to the west.
Here was a wainscoting of odoriferous cedar, carved as intricately as a sandal-wood fan, above which hung richly dyed tapestries of historical import, strips of silk embroidery and feather-work of indescribable beauty.
On the floor of pine, scrubbed to immaculate whiteness, lay a wonderful white carpet, bordered with gold and silver, in which were incrusted precious stones, representing many kinds of choice flowers. The leaves were formed of emerald, jade, aqua marine, and Amazon stones, while the buds and blossoms were composed of pearls, rubies and sapphires in the rough. The only cut and polished stones in the entire carpet were the diamonds, sparkling in the center of the blossoms, like dewdrops.
Curtains as fine as cobwebs hung over the tiny square-paned windows, and there were many terra cotta stools, ornamented in low-tone outline work, detailing the mythology and folk-lore of Atlantis.
Exquisite screens closed all entrances except the outside, where thick bronze slabs were fastened by heavy bolts and chains. Admission was sought by striking these plates with a mallet of inlaid bronze.
A cloudless, moonlight sky added much to the fairy-like effect of the night scene. Between the banners were silken lanterns gay in coloring, shade and decoration, and these twinkled like spheres of many-colored fire. The brilliant blaze of light on the signal-towers, the innumerable rockets, showering gold, silver or rainbow balls in profusion, or long, forked arrows, made the night a memorable one.
Setos, the inventor of pyrotechnics, outdid himself, and the whole population were in attendance to witness and enjoy the display. Not a housetop in Tlamco but answered the pretty code of greetings arranged from the battlements of Iaqua. By these means Kerœcia was enabled to thank each regiment, guild, clan and family taking part in her triumphant entry early in the day.
When the high-priestess opened her door the next morning, she found the passage barred by big-faced velvet pansies, crisp, fresh and still moist with dew.
“To whose thoughtfulness am I debtor?” she asked of one of the armed guardians pacing the hallway before the door.
“To Orondo. And he begs that thou wilt accept his escort for a visit to the gardens, at such hour as best suits thy pleasure and comfort.”
“It will please me to see him at once,” she answered.
Alcyesta, Suravia and Mineola were examining the rare basket filled with flowers which Yermah had sent with a kindly message.
“The daffodils show his regard; the ferns, his sincerity; and the violets, his extreme modesty,” they said, with giggling laughter, betraying the tension of nerves still animating them. They were agog with expectation, and when told of the projected visit to the peerless gardens they entered into the arrangement with all the zest and abandon of curious girlhood.
“From the roses on thy cheeks, I am justified in the inference that troops of good entities have guarded thy slumbers,” said Orondo, when the women came into the vestibule where he was awaiting them.
“I can only hope that the same blessed oblivion has been thy portion,” responded Kerœcia.
“Rahula, Ildiko and Alcamayn join us at the sun-dial, presently. They are intent upon a natal observance which, by thy leave we shall witness.”
Palanquins were their mode of conveyance.
“Alcyesta, Suravia and Mineola, look at the answer to our signals of last night,” exclaimed Kerœcia. “Oh! see the rose garlands on the obelisks, and the beautiful flowers everywhere!”
As she said this, a delegation of school children strewed her pathway with wall-flowers.
“Fidelity in adversity! How considerate and kind thou art!”
She begged to be set down and stood with her hands full of the blossoms, which she repeatedly carried to her lips, tossing them to the children about her. It was an indiscriminate mass of little ones, augmented by a bevy of older girls, laden with myrrh, wheat, oats and sprigs of heliotrope. Before Kerœcia realized it, her vacant chair was filled with flowering sage and Sweet William in bloom.
This language of esteem and gallantry was a tribute from some warrior priests sent to keep order and to assist in escort duty. Kerœcia and her companions wound the flower-wreaths in their hair, placed clusters of the same at their throats, and in their girdles, and carried as many more as their hands could hold.
“Haille! Haille!” spearsmen and school children shouted in chorus, only desisting when the garden gates were reached, and the party halted for a final exchange of courtesies. Kerœcia turned to Orondo.
“I love these kind, good-hearted people,” she said.
“Small wonder that they should love thee in return. The Monbas are not the only men willing to die for thee.” The flush on his face, his earnestness of manner and speech, should have warned Kerœcia; but at that moment, she was intently examining the sculpture on the stone aqueduct, here emptying into an artificial lake. Realizing the situation, Orondo was quick to turn it to advantage.
“I have a feeling of kinship with this body of water, since it is mine by right of plan and construction. The gardens are my special charge. We of Aztlan have choice of occupation, and I have sole command over this spot.”
“Thou art generously endowed with the sense of the beautiful,” she returned, in appreciation. “I am curious to know why this curbing is not in straight, but in wavy lines.”
“Because it is a meander imitating a river of spiritual force. The carving, also, conveys the same idea.”
The party had crossed the avenue leading from the market walls to the Temple of Neptune. The aqueduct surrounded the outside enclosure, and was built of solid sandstone and masonry, supported by arches of the same. The water in the canal came from Lake La Honda and skirted Blue Mountain. Where it emptied into Ohaba Lake, in the gardens, it made a pretty cascade over a profusion of rocks and water-plants.
To the right of the market was a sun-dial, which was a colossal bronze figure of a full-armored warrior thrusting furiously at his own shadow. This statue, of perfect model and workmanship, was placed on a pivot which revolved once in every twenty-four hours. At the feet was a glass dial, whose grains of gold slipped out at stated intervals, one at a time, sticking fast on the quicksilver bed prepared for them. The warrior could only scowl at, and threaten the shining hours.
When the sun at rising darted a direct shadow by the gnomon, or machete, in the hand of a soldier, and at its height, or mid-day, the figure made no shade, the populace adorned it with leaves and odoriferous herbs. Then they placed a chair made of choice cut-flowers on top of the helmet, saying that the sun appeared on his most glittering throne. After this, with great ostentation and rejoicings, they made offerings of gold, silver and precious stones.
Among the spectators of the ceremony, were Kerœcia and Orondo. His interest centered wholly in her—hers, in the novel rites and the people, who seemed to feel honored by her presence.
On an eminence beyond the sun-dial was the House of Piety, a structure having many apartments, filled with priests devoted to the healing art. The grounds between were laid out in regular squares and the intersecting paths were bordered with trellises supporting creepers and aromatic shrubs. These swayed in the breeze, partially screening the view by a quaint tracery of floral net-work.
Setos had been paying a visit to the House of Piety. On his way to the salt-water fish-ponds, located near Temple Avenue, but further up, he was startled by a low, sullen growl, and a quick leap into a clump of bushes near him. He was unarmed, save for a serpentine knife in his leather belt, and this he instantly unsheathed and was prepared for attack. He had not long to wait before the blood-shot eyes of Oghi peered through the greenery, and he could hear its tail lashing on the ground as the animal prepared for a spring.
At this juncture, there was an ominous rattle of the chain, and, in an instant, Oghi had turned a complete somersault in the air. Akaza jerked the chain hard enough to snap the self-clasping catch planned for such an emergency, and the ocelot came down on three legs.
“Down, Oghi! Down, sir!” sternly commanded Akaza. This was answered by a howl of mingled rage and surprise, as Oghi crouched with each hair on back and tail erect with hostility.
“Remain motionless, Setos! Shouldst thou move I would not be responsible for the consequences,” commanded Akaza, as he hastily twisted the chain around a good-sized flowering shrub. He managed to get the eye of the infuriated animal, and in a few moments the danger was over. None but a man absolutely master of self and conditions, could have quelled this beast as Akaza did.
“Oghi, lie down! Lie down, sir!”
Without the least show of resistance, the ocelot obeyed him.
“What thievish mischief has that brute been doing?” asked Setos, allowing anger to supplant a sickening sense of fear.
“Let us ascertain. He has broken away from his keeper, else he would not be here,” replied Akaza.
“Dost thou see footprints in the soft mud at the bottom of the tank? I am persuaded that Oghi made a meal of the rarest fish in the pond.” Setos was at his favorite occupation—he did so dearly love to exaggerate misdeeds of any kind.
“There are feathers, too, all about here,” he called as he ran from one rookery to another. “There are but four of the quetzal left in the silver fir. Yermah cannot be permitted to give away any of them. All he can do is to present these feathers to the high-priestess.”
Setos came back with a handful of brilliant green plumes, about three feet long showing rainbow tints in their metallic luster. There was also a portion of scarlet breast still dripping with blood, but that was all.
“I find this luminous tree badly broken,” said Akaza. “Oghi must have attempted to jump over it. He has broken the whole top off, and split the bole down to the roots. Disappointment awaits Orondo because he planned to bring our visitors here and show them how this tree lights up its surroundings at night. It were best to find out whether the torch-fish has been injured.”
Setos poked and raked among the pools and eddies of the pond, but reported the torch-fish uninjured. This member of the finny tribe does not use the torch for purposes of illumination. When mealtime comes, it lights up to attract smaller fish. They, mistaking the lantern for a phosphorescent insect, dart at it only to find their way into a pair of capacious jaws.
The evidence was wholly circumstantial; but, it was decided to make an example of Oghi, so the ocelot was led up the main thoroughfare hobbling on three legs.
As a matter of fact, Oghi had spent the entire morning chasing his own shadow, going into a veritable spasm of excitement when he saw his image reflected in the water. It took him long to decide that it was not some other animal when the image moved. Oghi tired himself out trying to discover the reason why the reflection undulated and rippled, when he, himself, was motionless. He flounced in and out of the pond so often, that he could not possibly have caught a fish. They were securely hidden through it all, and a huge rat did the damage found in the aviary.
Poor Oghi! His greatest fault was an abiding dislike to Setos, and his antipathies seemed to center around that one idea. This was why he snarled and snapped every time he came near the sun-dial. By some process of reasoning, the ocelot decided that the sun-dial was modeled after Setos.
These repeated plunges disturbed the glass-bottomed wooden box, used to produce a beautiful optical illusion in the salt water. The box was without cover, and so placed that the glass bottom was slightly below the surface. This arrangement enabled the observer to look steadily downward to the sea-floor itself. The first impression was that the glass possessed magical powers. Not a tree, nor a flower actually on the land above, but was here reflected in colors and forms of airiest grace.
Orondo piloted his party to where there was a sheltered cocoa-palm tree. This was a very unusual tree, for on more than one occasion a vegetable pearl had been found among its branches. Such an one was given to Kerœcia, and she was also allowed the choice of opals taken from the joints of bamboo reeds.
“If thou art willing,” said Alcamayn, “I will cut the seven pointed star of Jupiter in this gem at the polishing, and then thou wilt have an amulet against disease.”
“By so doing, thou wilt give great pleasure, and, if agreeable I desire a bracelet made of this vegetable ivory,” she answered.
“Why not put the pearl in the center and an opal on each side?” suggested Ildiko. “Here is a perfect match for the one thou hast chosen. Why not have the sign of Jupiter cut on one and his star on the other? This will surely bring good fortune.”
While they were selecting the ivory and discussing the details of ornament, Orondo busied himself with a tiny filigree silver cage containing a couple of giant fire-flies.
“Am I in an enchanted garden?” laughingly inquired Kerœcia when she was tolled off to a shady nook to inspect these wonderful insects. Orondo covered the cage with a black cloth, and instantly a ruddy glow proceeded from two glandular spots between the eyes and under each wing of the fire-flies. Soon the rays changed to a golden yellow, equal to a candle in brightness.
“To protect thee from genii,” said Orondo, “are a pair of racket-tailed humming-birds. These little fellows are booted and spurred like regular warriors, and are competent to fight any size or condition of feather-wearer.”
The cage, rich in carving, was made of sandal-wood. From the pagoda-like roof hung four small triangular-shaped banners.
“It were a gentle soul which planned these kind remembrances,” murmured Kerœcia, softly.
“These come from one who has been deeply moved by the simplicity of thy ministrations,” gallantly responded Orondo.
Kerœcia unwittingly led the way toward a swampy-looking inclosure fenced by poison-ivy and climbing sumac which she did not dare touch.
“Thou art wandering into forbidden domains,” remonstrated Orondo, hastening to her side. “Nature broods her deadliest poisons in this company. Here the carrot, parsnip, and celery families are undergoing regeneration. In time, I shall have them suitable for food. That pretty lily thou art admiring is the deadly hemlock; and here are the foxglove, the henbane, and the jimson-weed——”
“Surely I need no reminder of murderous quality here,” rejoined Kerœcia. She was gazing at a cluster of aconite. “My people have used this with terrible effect on themselves and on their enemies.”
She had reference to the poisoned arrows employed by the Monbas in their expeditions against the Ians.
A swift-footed runner, wearing state livery, approached, and prostrating himself before Kerœcia, said:
“Yermah, the Dorado, presents his compliments, and begs that the high-priestess, Kerœcia, will grace the Hall of Embassadors with her presence. Ben Hu Barabe, Eko Tanga, and the Dorado await her there.”
“Immediate compliance is the only form grateful obedience takes,” she answered, while a swift pallor overspread her countenance. “Let us go at once!”
A shade of disappointment came over Orondo’s face. He had hoped to show Kerœcia more of the beauties of this royal garden. There was something of the impatience of the lover and the selfishness of a rival in his feeling. They were passing through the landscape set with night-blooming plants.
As they neared Lake Ohaba, a long, narrow body of water, formed artificially, there were masses of water-lilies anchored on the surface. Tiny air-bubbles and tinier mouths indicated the presence of gold and silver fish, darting about unmindful of the waterfowl feeding on the banks, or sunning themselves on the floating gardens which dotted the miniature lake.
Bridges, ponds, waterfalls and temples covered the landscape of the floating gardens, but everything was constructed on the smallest scale possible. The trees were old and gnarled, and the moss-covered masonry was no larger than a doll’s house and grounds. Even the dahlias and the chrysanthemums were dwarfed into pigmy sizes.
Kerœcia must have felt something of Orondo’s disappointment; for, she halted in front of the fanciful pavilion facing these movable wonders and ordered the palanquin which was to convey her back to Iaqua.
“I am loathe to leave the spot where Nature and man have wrought so well together,” she said, with simplicity and appreciation.
“Such pretty reluctance reconciles one to that obedience which sometimes tries the souls of men,” responded Orondo, satisfied with the admiration so plainly reflected in her open countenance.
As the tamanes knelt to receive their human freight, one of them presented Kerœcia with a basket ornamented with beads and feathers in quaint combination, and filled with ripe pomelos. The fruit was partially concealed by grape leaves, and was a simple offering to quench thirst.
In laying out the city of Tlamco, the four points of the compass were designated by different colors. The east, from whence come revivified nature and springtime, was marked by green. This symbolizes fulfillment and perfection. It holds out the hope of immortality and victory, in the laurel and in the palm. For this reason was the emerald considered the happiness-bringing stone. The Aztecs, Chinese, and Persians attach great significance to green as all their uniforms and ceremonies demonstrate.
The west was designated by white, the emblem indicating integrity in the judge, humility in the sick, and chastity in women. In a spiritual sense it is the acme of all—divinity. When worn as mourning white expresses negation of self.
The south was red, signifying fire, and all phases of life on the physical plane. The red color of the blood has its origin in the action of the heart, which from time immemorial has been associated with love.
The north was black, ever the symbol of death and despair. These people knew of the recurring Ice Age, and to them the north was typical of death, since all former civilization had perished from extreme cold.
The center of the city was marked yellow, in honor of the sun, the symbol of light and wisdom.
The Grand Servitor was expected to wear a yellow or red head-covering with gold ornaments, and he must at all times use yellow for a parasol or canopy. The highest dignitaries carried green umbrellas and there was always a bit of green showing in the head-coverings. The lower officials carried red parasols or wore red; while the citizens wore black, or carried black overhead.
Akaza was always provided with a white umbrella.