by Jacob Nelson
In the distance beyond where the saw-headed fish landed was an island topped by twin volcanoes. The place was a haven of beauty mingled with just enough oddities to keep the boys heads turning in every direction. As they neared the island, howler monkeys announced their approach. Like a siren to the local inhabitants, men came pouring out of the forest and into dug-out canoes. Shortly the many canoes had pulled up along side of the boys and through words and gestures the boys were made known to follow them.
Kit and Caribo resigned themselves to fate as they dug their paddles into the water after the head canoe.
“At least we haven’t been killed by them yet,” said Kit, trying to sound jovial despite the circumstances.
“Yet…” echoed Caribo pessimistically, as he sized up the tribesmen around them.
The tribesmen led the boys past the towing volcanic cones of the island to the far shore. There they were prodded and directed towards an ornate building of some magnitude where they met chief Nicarao, a rich ruler who lived in Nicaraocali the ruling city of the tribe.
“Who are you? Where do you hail from? Why are you here?” The verbal interrogation lasted some time before the guards lightened up.
Once the king and his guards realized that the boys were just adventurers in search of gold, the tribunal relaxed. Jokingly, they called Kit and Caribo ‘chontal’, a term meaning ‘foreigner’, but relating to a lesser tribe east of them. In the end the Niquiranos were very friendly and helpful.
Yes, they knew of the Golden City, but claimed it was north, not south, and that it sat on a large lake named Texcoco. In fact not only had they heard of the city but they had been tribesmen of it when it was still part of Teotihuacan.
However, as Teotihuacan fell, on the advice of their religious leaders, they traveled south until they encountered the lake with the two volcanoes rising out of the waters. There they stopped and built anew, finally founding their great city of Nicaraocali.
However, the boys were warned to not approach the Golden City, which the Niquiranos called Tenochtitlan, as the Aztec that lived there was a blood-thirsty group.
Kit and Caribo thanked them for the advice and inquired what was west of them.
The reply from the Niquiranos was an astonishing one. Less than a day’s walk west was the ‘Mighty Waters’.
“Can it be that we are on another island?” asked Kit, amazed. “It seems that every island is larger than the first.”
Caribo passed the question onto the Niquiranos and replied, “No. they say that this is no island as they have never found the end thereof. That the land stretches very far north and south, but only a short distance west and east.”
“Well, what do you say?” asked Kit.
“I say we see these mighty waters,” replied Caribo.
“That’s what I was hoping you would say,” replied Kit.
The mighty waters were mighty indeed. Yet a larger surprise awaited them: one of the most beautiful beaches on the Pacific. The pure white sand was bordered by tropical forests on one side and the Pacific Ocean on the other. There they found thousands upon thousands of sea turtles. They had stumbled on their mating and nesting areas. The huge numbers left them in awe and again filled them with wonder.
“I suspect I know what we will be eating tonight,” remarked Caribo drily as he took in the grand scene.
Apart from the beautiful beach, the area behind them was made up of tropical dry forests and mangroves. There they found the forest full of an array of animals including monkeys, garrobo negro, coyotes, raccoons, iguana verde, skunks, and legartijas. Hundreds of birds also made this small Eden their home, some of which feasted on turtle eggs.
They rested along the beach for a few days, playing in the surf, having found sport by being towed out via grabbing two sea turtles below the upper shell, just behind the head, only to let go and ride the surf in… belly style on a piece of driftwood. Kit soon bored of this amusement and decided it was time to pursue his quest of exploring this New World; never knowing that he had made yet another historical first, setting foot in the Pacific Ocean years ahead of the rest of the Old World explorers.
They made their way back the way they had come, deciding that travel via canoe was easier and quicker than by foot.
True to their word, the Niquiranos had not only guarded their canoe, but had also supplied them with a number of trinkets and supplies in exchange for some of Kit’s brightly colored glass beads.
The return trip down the river and the subsequent travel north following the coastline was a delight to them, as they were finally moving in the direction of the flowing water.
It wasn’t many days later that they passed the place where they had first made landfall and decided to travel south.
Again everything was new to them. As they rounded the Yucatán Peninsula they decided to make landfall again. According to the Niquiranos, somewhere in this area north was the Golden City of Tenochtitlan which sat on Lake Texcoco.
Luck was on their side for they shortly came to the stone structures of the Maya.
Kit and Caribo decided it was best to approach unseen. Pulling alongside the sea cliffs, they carefully hid their canoe and hiked the remaining distance to the closest building.
The city was built of massive blocks of gray stone and was protected on one side by steep sea cliffs and on the landward side by a wall that averaged eight to sixteen feet in height. The wall was also exceptionally thick and long on the side parallel to the sea. The part of the wall that ran the width of the site was slightly shorter and thinner on both sides. Kit realized that constructing this massive wall would have taken an enormous amount of energy and time, which showed how important defense was to this people at the time they built the city.
On the southwest and northwest corners there were small watch towers, showing again how well defended the city was. There were five narrow gateways in the wall with two each on the north and south sides and one on the west. Near the northern side of the wall a small natural sinkhole provided the city with fresh water.
It was through that northern opening past the impressive wall that Kit and Caribo entered the city.
The first free-standing building they found was something to be admired. There a stone step ran around the base of the building which sat on a low substructure. The doorways to the building were narrow with columns that appeared to be used as support of the building. Beyond, the walls flared out and there were two sets of molding near the top.
They entered the building closest to them but found it devoid of all life. Looking around, ample sunlight filtered in from two small windows, onto a small altar at the back wall. The vaulted room made their conversation sound distant. No other voice could be heard.
“Where were the people?” Kit wondered aloud as he craned his neck to take in the lofty structure.
They climbed to the outer wall for better view. Before them stretched a vast city with temples, pyramids, and other buildings undreamt of in Europe. The buildings seemed to rise straight out of the jungle, with huge fruit bearing trees between them, lining the avenues, giving shade.
“It’s a great city, but there are no roofs of gold…” Kit started,
“…and no people,” finished Caribo.
“Well then…?”
“Then come, let us explore,” Caribo agreed.
They explored other buildings and other rooms, with similar results. It was as if the entire city had quite abruptly and of one accord, left everything and disappeared.
It was on such reconnoiter that Caribo first heard humanity. “Kit. Do you hear voices?”
Kit strained to hear what Caribo heard and surprise crossed his face as he too heard the distant shout of many voices.
“I do! Let’s go!”
They followed the sound as they wended their way through the immense city. Then, having found the place where the voices were coming from, they climbed the great outer wall for a bird’s eye view of the event inside.
They found t
hemselves overlooking a huge open stadium where a ballgame was being played.
Played inside a long, narrow alley and flanked by brightly painted walls, the nearest side sported a large stone ring.
Kit and Caribo watched the game for some time from their hiding place. The game seemed structured and was definitely the cultural affair of the city.
The rules didn’t make much sense at first, but as Kit and Caribo continued to watch, the rules made more sense to them. To begin with, the players couldn’t use their hands at all. They had to pass the ball by kicking or bumping with their bodies.
Points were lost by a player who let the ball bounce more than twice before returning it to the other team, or who let the ball go outside the boundaries of the court, or who tried and failed to pass the ball through one of the stone rings placed on each wall along the center line.
Points were gained if the ball hit the opposite end wall, while the decisive victory was reserved for the team that put the ball through a ring. However, placing the ball through the ring was a rare event—as the rings were set six meters off the playing field, or as Kit observed it, about three times his own height—and most games were likely won on points rather than by getting the ball through the ring.
Kit and Caribo were undecided as to what they should do; show themselves or leave while they had the chance. It was Caribo that eventually sold Kit on a plan. He volunteered to go forward and make contact with the people of the city, saying that he was a better choice, being less of a shock to the people than a white boy would be. Kit finally gave in, reluctantly, and Caribo stepped down into view.
Kit had a bad feeling about this.
As Caribo stepped down, a mighty cheer went forth from the crowds signaling the end of the game. Just as Caribo turned the corner of the giant stone Jaguar that guarded the entrance to the court, one of the spectators had just descended from the viewing stands to leave. Unfortunately it was one who had dealt with the Caribs before… and not with positive results.
“A Carib! A Carib within the city walls!” shouted the man that first pointed him out. The cry went before the onlookers.
Before Kit had found any means to do anything to help his friend, Caribo was roughly grabbed and hauled into the arena.
Caribo tried to explain that he was not a Carib, that he hated them as much as these people obviously did. He pleaded; he tried to resist, but he was forcibly maneuvered to the far end of the court, where a huge stone slab lay.
A gang of four large natives hoisted him up the high far side until step by step they reached the top. There, despite Caribo’s best efforts to escape, they forced him down and stretched him out upon the altar stone, while others tied his hands and feet. Caribo was to be sacrificed.
Even as the realization of his dire circumstance filled his head, a shout echoed out and was taken up by the others into a deafening chant: “Kill him! Sacrifice him! Kill the Carib!”
“Kill him!”
“Sacrifice him!”
“Kill the Carib!” screamed the crowd.
Chapter 4
Caribo struggled in vain against the cords that bound him to the altar stone. The gang of men that had dragged him up there now moved aside and an older high priest came forth brandishing a jade knife in his hand.
He raised both hands and spoke to the crowd. “This Carib, this man eater, has defiled our great city by entering during the great games!”
“…I’m not a Carib, nor a man eater,” screamed Caribo, truly terrified now.
“Quiet! Insolent devil!” shouted the high priest as he hit Caribo across the face.
The strike had its desired effect as Caribo grew silent.
The crowd also quieted as the priest yelled, “Now for the removal of this vermin…”
Caribo knew his time had come. He began to do what most men do in their hour of need; he turned to his God.
“Oh great and wondrous Cemie…” Caribo began praying aloud earnestly.
As he prayed, Caribo watched the high priest raise the knife.
But as he raised it above his head, the old high priest stopped to listen; his arms poised for the plunge but held still as Caribo’s words washed over him.
‘What was this? A Carib that believed in Cemie? A Carib with a God?’ He paused for just a moment as thoughts passed through his mind.
The crowd grew tense with excitement. Without knowing that the pause would incite them all the more, the priest continued to think… continued to listen, waiting for the Carib to finish his prayer.
“I commend my spirit to you…” Caribo nearly whispered the last words, having finished his prayer. Then looking up into the priest’s eyes, he saw something there beyond the hatred. Taking courage from the look, he repeated, “I do not eat human flesh, but I am now ready for the next life. Do what you will to me,” he finished, allowing his eyes to close for a moment.
But the knife didn’t enter into his flesh.
Opening his eyes again, he turned them up to stare into the priest’s eyes.
The old high priest was taken aback all the more by what he saw in the reflection of the young man’s eyes. He read sincerity, honesty and a pure heart. He wavered.
The crowd had had enough waiting. The chant took up again, slowly at first then repeated faster and faster. “Kill the Carib! Sacrifice him!”
The old high priest looked away from the boy on the altar and glanced over the crowd. The young man’s prayer had affected him. ‘Could he really believe that his God would save him?’ He asked in thought. What he saw next caused him to drop his knife. ‘Not only had the boy’s God answered him, He has sent His angel to save him!’
The high priest saw Kit as he entered the stadium.
While Caribo was taken from him, and drug up to the altar for sacrifice, Kit quickly made his way down to the main part of the arena.
As he ran to Caribo’s aid, he filled his pistols; for Kit had come to the realization that he would rather die trying to help his friend than live with the knowledge that his lack of action was through his own cowardice.
As the old high priest dropped his knife, he let out an exclamation to his own God. Then dropping to his knees, he begged his God for forgiveness for the evil act that he had nearly committed.
As the knife clattered upon the stone it gave way to a silence that overtook the whole stadium as one by one the people noticed Kit.
Kit stopped and, guessing that they were awed by his light hair and pale skin quickly came up with a plan that if it worked would pay off in saving both Caribo’s and his lives. He quickly yelled to Caribo, in his own language, “Tell them that I am come from God… that I am His angel and that I am opposed to this sacrifice. Tell them I will send a mighty thunderclap as a sign.”
His voice cut through the stadium and instantly more murmuring came forth. Many people dropped to their knees.
Caribo took courage and did as he was told. As he yelled the last words, all eyes that had moved to take him in now moved back to Kit. A great hush filled the auditorium as they eagerly awaited this ‘miracle.’
The golden haired angel in their midst slowly turned as he studied the crowd. In his hand he held a short stick. Then, as if supplicating the Gods themselves, he lifted his arm high, the short stick pointed up towards the heavens. The stick flashed with brilliant light, not unlike the flash of light that precedes a storm, and suddenly a mighty peal of thunder crashed forth. The angel neither flinched nor cowered from the flash nor from the thunder.
The opposite was true for the whole of the city. As one body, every living soul in the city immediately prostrated themselves to the ground in reverence to the angel that had come.
Having fired his pistol and seeing the result, Kit silently thanked his own God. Aloud, he called out to Caribo, “Have them cut you free!”
Caribo passed along the message and the old high priest quickly retrieved his jade knife. This time the old man used the knife to save a life rather than take it.
As the co
rds came free, Caribo pulled himself upright, rubbing his wrists.
The old man quickly bowed himself down before him holding out the jade knife. “Please take it, my son,” he begged. “Please have mercy on an old fool that had been taken in too many times by the evils of the Caribs and the Aztecs.”
Caribo accepted the gift and frankly forgave the man. Then, calling to Kit, he asked Kit to come forward.
“Are you sure, Caribo? Now’s the best time to make our departure,” he coaxed.
“I don’t think they will try anything at this point. They really believe you are an angel sent from above. I believe we have nothing to fear from them.”
Kit wasn’t too certain, but having trusted his life to his friend before, he accepted his friend’s judgment and slowly climbed the steps to finally stand before the prostrated multitude. There, reaching down, he grabbed the old man by the arm, and applying a bit of force, helped raise the old high priest from the ground. “Have him call out to the crowd and tell them to rise,” he said to Caribo whom he used as his translator.
Caribo consented and told the old man Kit’s wishes. “With trembling voice the old man called out to the multitude. “The angel has asked that I, as your high priest, speak on his behalf to this his chosen family…” he begun. Caribo translated to Kit as the old man spoke. Kit started to smile, laughing to himself. Gaining more confidence as he saw Kit’s smile, the old man continued, “He has asked that I command all of you to rise.” As he spoke, he raised his arms and Kit did the same. The crowd slowly rose to their feet, still in awe with the golden angel from above.
“What now, my friend?” asked Caribo. “They will be expecting some words of wisdom or direction.”
Kit considered it for a second. “Well, let’s start with the obvious,” he said to Caribo. “Tell them that human sacrifice is wrong. That it is an abomination…I mean evil,” he corrected, realizing he was again using words that Caribo wouldn’t understand.
