King of The World's Edge

by H. Warner Munn

  “Haro! Haro!” he now said, holding up one hand with fingers spread. “Hayonwatha!”—holding out the other in the same way.

  Then, with a rippling outpour of his labial language, he clasped his hands to symbolize the union of us twain. He touched his heart and held out his left hand. It was easy to understand that heart and friendship went with the offer, and I gladly proffered my left, pleased to have found a friend so easily, but he was not yet done.

  Unloosing his knife, he made an incision in his own arm, clapping the bleeding place to my wound that the bloodstreams might mingle. So I gained a blood-brother who, though I could not then foresee it, was to become a staunch ally and a true friend in the years ahead.

  While this had been taking pjace, we had all been pressing on with vigor through the forest, and now, without warning, debouched into a clearing of several acres, in the center of which was a palisaded fort of logs, strong and high-walled, as befitted a far outpost in a savage country held in peace only by constant raids and forays.

  My new-found friend had me stop with him and we let the long processi&n go by, while we looked on and around the clearing. On all sides were thick forests of pine, but in the open was much tilled land in which grew a long-leafed tall plant which I did not recognize, and after some difficulty secured the name of teocentli for it.

  The grain obtained from this plant grows upon pithy spindles, sheathed in tender leaf wrappings. Each kernel is a dozen times the size of wheat and when ground produces an excellent meal for baking, though it is good in many other preparations and is the staple cereal of the country. The civilization of the country is based upon it, for without its great yield from few seed, the enormous slave population along the broad river basins could not be fed, and this civilization depended upon slavery.

  You will find seed of it among the goods I am sending. It is beyond doubt easier to reap, mill and cook in many ways than our other varieties of corn, such as wheat, rye, and barley.

  The commander pointed out another field of coarse, rank, broad-leafed weed and made signs that it was very good, rubbing his stomach and exhaling deeply, but in what manner it was used I could not then imagine. Little as it may seem possible, these people dry this herb, crumble it into little stone cups attached to a reed mouthpiece and set fire to it, sucking the aromatic vapors at the mouth and breathing them out through the nostrils!

  This has a medicinal effect and produces a giddiness and sickness in the neophyte, which after some time is followed by a general feeling of exhilaration, like a stomach full of mild wine. Among the savager peoples of this country, the practice is widespread and they will not open a council or consider an important matter without first blowing puffs of smoke to the four corners of the earth and going through a complicated and somewhat unnecessary ritual, to cause good spirits to favor their enterprises.

  The folk I had fallen in with, however, have, progressed beyond such crude superstitions, worshiping only three major gods, typifying Sun, Earth and Water, and smoke the herb for its virtues only.

  Seeing that I was anxious to learn, Hayonwatha pointed out in his soft speech various individuals as they passed by, naming them:

  “Chippeway, Yamasee, Otali, Nashee, Shawano”— with many another nation; and as they passed, with leisure to look closely I could see differences of coloration and weapon embellishment.

  Then waving his arm broadly to include all the varied nationalities, he said, “Tlapallicos!” and fell into a glum, brooding mood, as though the thought irritated bun.

  I tapped him on the breast. “Tlapallico?” I queried.

  He started, his eyes flashed and his strong right hand fell to his belted hatchet.

  “Onondagaono!” he exclaimed, and struck his breast as though deeply insulted. Then he smiled and repeated, “Onondaga! Onondaga!” twice, to be certain I should not again fall into error, but left off the suffix “ono,” which I inferred to apply to tribe, clan or race and not to an individual.

  I pointed to my fellows and said “Romans,” which he repeated several times to fix the word in his memory.

  “Tlapallicos?” I questioned, pointing at some prisoners, mostly wounded, who followed under guard at the tail of the procession.

  “Calusas!” he growled and spat on one as he passed, to indicate his contempt. “Chichamecs!”

  As I might remark, “Saxons—barbarians!”

  Yet it was against these natives of the region, and their neighbors, the Carankawas, that the Tlapallicos, semi-civilized and disciplined to ferocity as they were, must sally or protect themselves in camp by walls of mounded earth spined high with a pointed log palisade.

  The procession passed and we followed across the clearing—up the earthwork ramp, through a gate in the palisade, and we had entered Ford Chipam. Within the enclosure were a large number of huts, mostly flimsy constructions of wattled reeds smeared with mud, but some of pole frameworks erected over a sunken floor below the ground level, the whole sheathed with broad pieces of bark or the hides of animals.

  At the exact center stood two log structures, one small, one large. The small one was the commander’s dwelling, and the large one, with doors and windows that could be barred and made tight, the prison of the fort.

  We were urged within. “Weik-waum,” said Hayon-watha, and the openings were made fast. Here the fifty of us spent the night, receiving rations a little before dark: deer and bear meat cooked into a tasty stew with the yellow kernels of teocentli, and small black beans. It was good and plentiful and afterward some of us slept, but I could not, nor Myrdhinn.

  During most of the night we peered out of the barred windows at the scene on- the parade ground where the captive Calusas were being put to death to appease the manes of those Tlapallicos slain in the day’s battle.

  Mutilated, burned and scalped, they died to a man chanting defiance to their captors, and days later I saw their skulls set high on the pointed palisade to warn lurking forest spies that a like fate awaited any who dared resist the power of this farthest-flung fort of the mighty empire we had reached.

  “Hue-hue-Tlapallan,” Hayonwatha later named it to me. “The old-old-red-land!”

  And red it was, every inch of it: red in soil, in habits, in spirit, drenched in blood, its altars reeking, its priests stinking with gore; ruddy the foliage of its northern boundaries, ruddy the ground where we lay and all along its southern marches.

  The very thoughts of its people were tinged with red, their desires and dreams more ruddy than the color of their hides.

  The sun that night tinged all the enclosure, staining huts and houses; the ramps on the red earth mounds, the firing-platforms of red pine—all took on a bloodier hue, which was retained after sunset by the leaping flames that consumed the enemies of that sun’s worshipers.

  Had we known more, we might have taken this as an omen affecting our further life in this cruel land.

  8 How Naughty Children Were Frightened in Samothrace

  Early in the morning, talking outside brought us to the bars again, where we saw several passing men, lightly dressed but well armed, equipped to run or fight.

  We watched them as they were let out of the north gate and through the opening, saw them look about warily and enter the forest, separating there, and guessed them to be runners sent to apprise some monarch of our entry into his land.

  Obviously these people held the outer barbarians in deep respect, for some time after the last man had gone a squad of men loitered near the gate on the chance that one might return closely pursued.

  But nothing of the sort occurred, and after the fog and chill of the dawn had given way to warmth and after we had been fed, the guard returned to their quarters, leaving only two pacing sentinels on each firing-platform on the four walls, and high above them a stationary watcher, perched on a tower built above a mound between the prison and the commander’s house.

  Every hour, all day long, this sentr
y was relieved by another, and only once in the fqrty days we spent at this fort did we see any relaxation in vigilance or discipline.

  Men were constantly leaving or entering the fort in parties of various numbers, but never less than four. Sometimes they brought wicker baskets of fish, both of the fresh and salt varieties; sometimes deer, black or brown bear, grown fat as swine on the berries with which these forests abound.

  Often large birds were brought in, most succulent, bronze-feathered, red-wattled and strange to see, besides other species which we recognized—doves, geese, ducks, cranes, grouse, pheasants and many similar edibles.

  And all day long baskets of salt came in and were stored away with the care befitting a great treasure, to protect which this fort had been erected.

  The country abounds in all things necessary for good living. I have seen doves flying in flocks that hid the sun, so many that three days did not bring the end of the flock; while a man might enter the woods as they slept at night and not trouble himself to be cautious or even burden himself with a stick to knock them down, but pluck them from the trees and bushes for the stretching forth of a hand! And in the morning we would find every green thing gone from the wood as though it had been smitten with a blight overnight.

  A rich and fertile country it is that I hold for you, my Emperor!

  At this time, however, none of us expected much besides the day’s food, living in uncertainty and dread as to when the runners might return and what orders they would bring.

  So a week went by with no change in our surround-ings or habits, except that we had been given back our clothing (but no armor), and a doctor had treated Myrdhinn’s gashed lips, my arm wound and divers others of us that had suffered some small injury at the time of the wreck. One man in particular this doctor treated in a manner that should interest Roman physicians as much as it did me.

  The second day of our captivity, he complained of head pains, later groaning and crying out in torment, while the next day he looked at us with fever-brilliant eyes, recognizing no one.

  Myrdhinn could not help him and we gave him up for dead, but this doctor of whom I speak came to see huü, and while a younger man (his son, I believe) looked on with interest, our companion was given dry leaves to chew and the doctor took some himself.

  Then, with one of our company seated upon each arm and leg of our fellow to hold him steady, the doctor began his work.

  First, with a razor-sharp knife of obsidian glass, which is here called itztli, he laid back a portion of the scalp, exposing the bone beneath, spitting juice from his own leaves upon the wound. Then he removed part of the bone, which, as we all could see, had been cracked and was pressing upon the brain. Working swiftly, he removed all specks of bone witn shell tweezers, rounded the edges of the hole, smearing them with spittle, deftly cut a piece of thick sea-shell to fit and clapped it over the opening.

  Straightway he applied more spittle, sewed up the scalp flap with sinew and bade us by sign to keep the man under restraint, which we did for two days, binding him face down upon a wooden pallet which they brought us, after which time he became sensible and could be trusted to care for himself, though still very sick.

  Now the odd thing is this: although he suffered during the operation, yet his pain was almost annulled by the application of this spittle and by the effects of the juice he must have swallowed from his own cud.

  Therefore I send you all these leaves I have been able to collect, they being rare and most precious, brought to us with difficulty and hardship from unfriendly lands far to the south, and hope that when they are before your learned men, they may be recognized and similar plants found in Europe.

  After we had been incarcerated for a week, though more as respected prisoners of war than slaves or enemies, I was called and conducted to the commander’s weik-waum.

  Here we set about the business of mutual communication, and as we both were anxious to learn, at the end of the month we could exchange enough words in his own speech to get one another’s meaning. Myrd- „ hinn was also admitted to these lessons and learned far quicker than J, and in turn we instructed our companions.

  In these talks we learned much which may well be set down here, the swift course of following events being understood all the better for the present interruption, although you should realize that I myself did not know all of these things for many years.

  The country where we dwell is named Alata, as upon the map which I enclose you will see it drawn, partly from observation and a good deal by reports from Hie native traders, who cover vast distances on foot and water, there being no other means of travel anywhere in the whole land.

  Far to the north lies an inland sea of fresh water and here live savage tribes, as also along the ocean seaboard. These speak many languages and war among one another, being utter barbarians, and are termed generally Chichamecs—their country, Chichameca—in disregard for whatever they may call themselves.

  To the west, broad plains and valleys and gently rolling hills, likewise inhabited by wandering tribes, extend to the very edge of the world, which is marked “ by a titanic range of mountains not to be crossed by man, for they extend upward beyond the reaches of breathable ah*.

  Southerly lies a hot and steaming land, by name Atala, lush with vegetation, uncomfortably moist, the homeland of the Mias, the ruling class of the country of Tlapallan. From this place they moved northward, settling in the fertile interior valleys where the great rivers run, providing transportation and furnishing much tillable land for the practice of agriculture.

  Here they expanded and thrived, driving out the original inhabitants into the forests to lead a savage existence, where they became great hunters and warriors and were feared by the Tlapallicos and Mias.

  Studded thickly along the borders of Tlapallan, more especially to the north, northeast and east, lies a long chain of forts, heavily manned, constantly ready for attack, holding all the main rivers which are the thoroughfares of this country. There are well-beaten paths through the forests and the mountain ranges, where the passes are likewise held by forts and the heights are constantly patrolled by the men stationed there.

  These soldiers hold the Chichamecs in deep dread and some contempt—dread of their fighting-ability, and contempt of their arms and education; for the soldiers spring from the same stock as their attackers and those defending the marches of Tlapallan are but one step removed from the would-be invaders.

  Their system of slavery is this. A woman or man after capture is at once a slave. There is no appeal, no exchange of prisoners, no manumission. Neither is there any chance of escape, since the prisoner is hurried inland at once. Then, lost among the teeming myriads of Tlapallan, the captive becomes a beast of burden, toiling from dawn to dusk in the fields, fishing in the rivers under close surveillance, or working upon one of the numerous mounds of earth (sometimes over a hundred feet in height and covering acres of ground), in the form of pyramids, of animals, geometrical designs in the form of hollow enclosures, or simple barrows to provide work for idle hands.

  These many forms of mounds and designs are the chief pride and distinguishing mark of Tlapallan from other lands. Almost everything these people do concerns a mound in some way.

  The ramparts of the forts are earth, with a palisade on top. The rich river borders are knobbed with mounds, upon which the people seek shelter at a time of sudden flooding of the alluvial lands, for these mighty rivers are apt to overflow their banks or change their course overnight. Other mounds cover the bones of illustrious dead, and these are huge. I was told that one alone had taken fifty years to erect, using the labor of two thousand slaves, in such times as they could be spared from the tilling of the fields.

  Two people lie buried in this mound, but that was long ago and no one now remembers their names or anything of their history!

  No such burial is given to the slaves. They erect the mounds where the temples are built, they see the
watch-fires flame night and day, always tended, extinguished but once a year to be immediately relit, but they have only one share in the worship.

  After they have grown old and feeble, their days of work done, having been transformed from valuable pieces of property into worthless mouths open for corn, they climb again those temple mounds their sweat and tears have salted and are savagely done to death upon the altars there to the glory of their captors’ cruel gods.

  Their children’s fate is different. Torn from then-parents at the earliest possible time, the young Chicha-mecs are educated according to the harsh principles of Tlapallan. Deprived of love and affection from birth, they grow stern and cruel. Most boys become soldiers, those of much promise being educated especially for positions of power, but the dull child or the cripple goes the way of his parents and may toil years later with earth-laden basket up some high mound and meet an aged crone tottering down, not knowing her to be his mother—or be in the throng below the temple when the high priest above, in the last rays of the setting sun, holds up his father’s still throbbing heart to coax their departing god back again from his dark lair.

  But however hard this stupid one’s toil, however difficult and hungry the days, he has a hope his parents never knew. The son of slave parents, by any whim of his master, may be made free, take up land for himself and become a small freeholder of Tlapallan, living in hopes that his son in turn, third remove from the forest life, may become a merchant, a trader in obsidian, wrought metal, or paints to embellish the bodies of the Chichamecs—his cousins.

  If so, this trader brings back all manner of precious things—furs, pearls, rare featherwork, gold or silver —unless indeed he be slain by those haughty, untamed people, as a true son of Tlapallan!

  Although the coloration of the skin, the contour of the features and the proud, cruel expression of all the races are very similar, a Mia may be ready distinguished from a Tlapallico by reason of the skull’s shape. Shortly after birth, a Mian baby has a small board bound tightly to his head, both front and back, compressing the soft bone shape, sometimes ridged along the top of the head like a bird’s crest, but often rising to a peak. This renders it impossible for a slave to ever masquerade as one of the ruling class, nor can he intermarry among them.