CHAPTER XII
THE BALEFUL SACRIFICE
I resolved to go on no more sacred hunts. I was sickened at thehorrible cruelty, the needless slaughter, the mad self-sacrifice whichdistinguished them. I was overwhelmed with horror at the mercilessdestruction of brave comrades, whose wounds, so gallantly received,should have been enough to inspire pity even in a heart of stone. Thegentleness, the incessant kindness, the matchless generosity of thesepeople seemed all a mockery. What availed it all when the same handthat heaped favors upon me, the guest, could deal death withoutcompunction upon friends and relatives? It seemed quite possible forthe Kohen to kill his own child, or cut the throat of his wife, if thehumor seized him. And how long could I hope to be spared among apeople who had this insane thirst for blood?
Some more joms had passed, and the light season had almost ended.The sun had been sinking lower and lower. The time had at last comewhen only a portion of his disk would be visible for a little whileabove the hills, and then he would be seen no more for six months ofour time. This was the dark season, and, as I had already learned, itsadvent was always hailed with joy and celebrated with solemn services,for the dark season freed them from their long confinement, permittedthem to go abroad, to travel by sea and land, to carry on their greatworks, to indulge in all their most important labors and favoriteamusements. The Kohen asked me to be present at the great festival,and I gladly consented. There seemed to be nothing in this thatcould be repellent. As I was anxious to witness some of their purelyreligious ceremonies, I wished to go. When I told Almah, she lookedsad, but said nothing. I wondered at this, and asked her if she wasgoing. She informed me that she would have to go, whereupon I assuredher that this was an additional reason why I should go.
I went with Almah. The Kohen attended us with his usual kind andgracious consideration. It seemed almost as though he was our servant.He took us to a place where we could be seated, although all theothers were standing. Almah wished to refuse, but I prevailed upon herto sit down, and she did so.
The scene was upon the semicircular terrace in front of the cavern,and we were seated upon a stone platform beside the chief portal. Avast crowd was gathered in front. Before us arose the half-pyramid ofwhich I have already spoken. The light was faint. It came from thedisk of the sun, which was partly visible over the icy crest of thedistant mountains. Far away the sea was visible, rising high over thetops of the trees, while overhead the brighter stars were plainlydiscernible.
The Kohen ascended the pyramid, and others followed. At the basethere was a crowd of men, with emaciated forms and faces, and coarse,squalid attire, who looked like the most abject paupers, and seemedthe lowest in the land. As the Kohen reached the summit there arose astrange sound--a mournful, plaintive chant, which seemed to be sungchiefly by the paupers at the base of the pyramid. The words of thischant I could not make out, but the melancholy strain affected mein spite of myself. There was no particular tune, and nothing likeharmony; but the effect of so many voices uniting in this strain wasvery powerful and altogether indescribable. In the midst of this I sawthe crowd parting asunder so as to make way for something; and throughthe passage thus formed I saw a number of youths in long robes, whoadvanced to the pyramid, singing as they went. Then they ascended thesteps, two by two, still singing, and at length reached the summit,where they arranged themselves in order. There were thirty of them andthey arranged themselves in three rows of ten each, and as they stoodthey never ceased to sing, while the paupers below joined in thestrain.
And now the sun was almost hidden, and there was only the faintestline from the upper edge of his disk perceptible over the icymountain-tops. The light was a softened twilight glow. It was to bethe last sight of the sun for six months, and this was the spectacleupon which he threw his parting beam. So the sun passed away, and thenthere came the beginning of the long dark season. At first, however,there was rather twilight than darkness, and this twilight continuedlong. All this only served to heighten the effect of this strikingscene; and as the light faded away, I looked with increasing curiosityupon the group at the top of the pyramid. Almah was silent. I halfturned, and said something to her about the beauty of the view. Shesaid nothing, but looked at me with such an expression that I wasfilled with amazement. I saw in her face something like a dreadfulanticipation--something that spoke of coming evil. The feeling wascommunicated to me, and I turned my eyes back to the group on thepyramid with vague fears in my soul.
Those fears were but too well founded, for now the dread ceremonybegan. The Kohen drew his knife, and placed himself at the head of thestone table. One of the youths came forward, stepped upon it, and laydown on his back with his head toward the Kohen. The mournful chantstill went on. Then the Kohen raised his knife and plunged it into theheart of the youth. I sat for a moment rooted to the spot; then agroan burst from me in spite of myself. Almah caught my hands in hers,which were as cold as ice.
"Be firm," she said, "or we are both lost. Be firm, Atam-or!"
"I must go," said I, and I tried to rise.
"Don't move," she said, "for your life! We are lost if you move. Keepstill--restrain yourself--shut your eyes."
I tried to do so, but could not. There was a horrible fascinationabout the scene which forced me to look and see all. The Kohen tookthe victim, and drawing it from the altar, threw it over the precipiceto the ground beneath. Then a loud shout burst forth from the greatcrowd. "Sibgu Sibgin! Ranenu! Hodu lecosck!" which means, "Sacrificethe victims! Rejoice! Give thanks to darkness!"
Then another of the youths went forward amid the singing, and laidhimself down to meet the same fate; and again the corpse was flungfrom the top of the pyramid, and again the shout arose. All the otherscame forward in the same manner. Oh, horrible, horrible, thricehorrible spectacle! I do not remember how I endured it. I sat therewith Almah, trying to restrain myself as she had entreated me, morefor her sake than for my own, a prey to every feeling of horror,anguish, and despair. How it all ended I do not know, nor do I knowhow I got away from the place; for I only remember coming back to mysenses in the lighted grotto, with Almah bending anxiously over me.
After this there remained a dark mystery and an ever-present horror. Ifound myself among a people who were at once the gentlest of the humanrace and the most blood-thirsty--the kindest and the most cruel. Thismild, amiable, and self-sacrificing Kohen, how was it possible thathe should transform himself to a fiend incarnate? And for me and forAlmah, what possible hope could there be? What fate might they havein reserve for us? Of what avail was all this profound respect, thisincessant desire to please, this attention to our slightest wish, thiscomfort and luxury and splendor, this freedom of speech and action?Was it anything better than a mockery? Might it not be the shallowkindness of the priest to the victim reserved for the sacrifice? Wasit, after all, in any degree better than the kindness of the cannibalsavages on those drear outer shores who received us with suchhospitality, but only that they might destroy us at last? Might theynot all belong to the same race, dwelling as they did in caverns,shunning the sunlight, and blending kindness with cruelty? It was anawful thought!
Yet I had one consolation. Almah was with me, and so long as she wasspared to me I could endure this life. I tried for her sake to resistthe feelings that were coming over me. I saw that she too was a preyto ever-deepening sadness. She felt as I did, and this despair of soulmight wreck her young life if there were no alleviation. And so Isought to alleviate her distress and to banish her sadness. The songsof these people had much impressed me; and one day, as I talked aboutthis with Almah, she brought forth a musical instrument of peculiarshape, which was not unlike a guitar, though the shape was square andthere were a dozen strings. Upon this she played, singing at the sametime some songs of a plaintive character. An idea now occurred to meto have an instrument made according to my own plans, which should benothing less than a violin. Almah was delighted at the proposal, andat once found a very clever workman, who under my direction succeededin producing one
which served my purpose well. I was a good violinist,and in this I was able to find solace for myself and for Almah formany a long hour.
The first time that I played was memorable. As the tones floatedthrough the air they caught the ears of those outside, and soon greatnumbers came into the apartment, listening in amazement and in raptattention. Even the painful light was disregarded in the pleasure ofthis most novel sensation, and I perceived that if the sense of sightwas deficient among them, that of hearing was sufficiently acute.I played many times, and sometimes sang from among the songs ofdifferent nations; but those which these people liked best were theIrish and Scottish melodies--those matchless strains created by thegenius of the Celtic race, and handed down from immemorial agesthrough long generations. In these there was nothing artificial,nothing transient. They were the utterance of the human heart, and inthem there was that touch of nature which makes all men kin. Thesewere the immortal passions which shall never cease to affect the soulof man, and which had power even here; the strains of love, ofsadness, and of pathos were sweet and enticing to this gentle race;for in their mild manners and their outburst of cruelty they seemed tobe not unlike the very race which had created this music, since theCelt is at once gentle and blood-thirsty.
I played "Tara," "Bonnie Doon," "The Last Rose of Summer," "The Landof the Leal," "Auld Lang Syne," "Lochaber." They stood entranced,listening with all their souls. They seemed to hunger and thirst afterthis music, and the strains of the inspired Celtic race seemed to cometo them like the revelation of the glory of heaven. Then I played morelively airs. Some I played a second time, singing the words. Theyseemed eager to have the same one played often. At last a grislythought came to me: it was that they would learn these sweet strains,and put their own words to them so as to use them at the awfulsacrifices. After that I would play no more.
It is a land of tender love and remorseless cruelty. Music isall-powerful to awaken the one, but powerless to abate the other; andthe eyes that weep over the pathetic strains of "Lochaber" can gazewithout a tear upon the death-agonies of a slaughtered friend.
A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder Page 12
