Part 62 (1/2)
Although up to this moment neither Tlaloc nor Matlacuezc had given the least sign of having heard his prayers, his countenance exhibited such hopeful confidence, that Clara, gazing upon it, felt fully convinced that upon this occasion there was not the slightest chance of a failure.
Up to the time of the moon reaching her meridian--the moment so eagerly expected--more than an hour was spent in every sort of preparation for the grand crisis. Up to that moment, moreover, Costal had preserved a grave and profound silence, enjoining the same upon Clara. This silence related only to conversation between them. Otherwise Costal had from time to time, as already stated, given utterance to prayers, spoken, however, in a low muttered voice.
The moment had now arrived when the dialogue of the two acolytes was to be resumed.
”Clara,” said the Zapoteque, speaking in a grave tone, ”when the G.o.ds of my ancestors, invoked by a descendant of the ancient Caciques of Tehuantepec, who has seen fifty seasons of rains--when they hear the sounds which I am now about to make, and for which they have listened in vain for more than three centuries, some one of them will appear beyond any doubt.”
”I hope so,” responded Clara.
”Certain they will appear,” said Costal; ”but which of them it may be, I know not; whether Tlaloc or his companion Matlacuezc.”
”I suppose it makes no difference,” suggested the negro.
”Matlacuezc,” continued Costal, ”would be easily known. She is a G.o.ddess; and, of course, a female. She always appears in a white robe-- pure and white as the blossom of the _floripondio_. When her hair is not wound around her head, it floats loosely over her shoulders, like the mantilla of a senora of high degree. Her eyes s.h.i.+ne like two stars, and her voice is sweeter than that of the mocking-bird. For all that, her glance is terrifying to a mortal, and there are few who could bear it.”
”Oh, I can bear it,” said the negro; ”no fear of that.”
”Tlaloc,” continued Costal, ”is tall as a giant. His head is encircled with a chaplet of living serpents, that, entwined among his hair, keep up a constant hissing. His eye is full of fire, like that of the jaguar; and his voice resembles the roaring of an angry bull. Reflect, then, while it is yet time, whether you can bear such a sight as that.”
”I have told you,” replied Clara, in a resolute tone, ”that I wish for gold; and it matters little to me whether Tlaloc or his wife shows me the _placer_ where it is to be found. By all the G.o.ds, Christian and pagan! I have not come thus far to be frightened back without better reason than that. No!”
”You are firmly resolved, comrade? I see you are. Now, then--I shall proceed to invoke my G.o.ds.”
On saying these words, the Indian took up a large stone, and advancing to the boulder of obsidian, struck the stone against one of its angles with all his might. The collision produced a sound resembling that of a brazen instrument; in fact, like the stroke of a bell.
Twelve times did Costal repeat the stroke, each time with equal force.
The sounds echoed over the waters of the lake, and through the aisles of the forest on its sh.o.r.es; but their distant murmurings had scarce died upon the air, when a response came from the woods. This was given in a series of the most frightful howlings--the same which had terrified Captain Lantejas upon his tree, and which Don Mariano had found himself unable to explain.
Clara partook of a terror almost equal to that of Don Cornelio, but it arose from a different cause. He had no other belief, but that the howling thus heard was the response vouchsafed by the pagan G.o.ds to the invocation of his companion. After a moment his confidence became restored, and he signed to Costal to continue.
”Sound again!” said he, in a low but firm voice, ”it is Tlaloc who has responded. Sound again!”
The Indian cast a glance upon his companion, to a.s.sure himself that he was in earnest. The moon showed his face of a greyish tint; but the expression of his features told that he spoke seriously.
”Bah!” exclaimed Costal, with a sneer, ”are you so little skilled in the ways of the woods, as to mistake the voice of a vile animal for that of the G.o.ds of the Zapoteque?”
”What an animal to make a noise like that?” interrogated Clara, in a tone of surprise.
”Of course it is an animal,” rejoined Costal, ”that howls so.
Sufficiently frightful, I admit--to those who do not know what sort of creature it is; but to those who do, it is nothing.”
”What kind of animal is it?” demanded Clara.
”Why, an ape; what else? A poor devil of a monkey, that you could knock over with a bit of a stick; as easily as you could kill an opossum. Ah, _hombre_! the voice of the great Tlaloc is more terrible than that. But see! what have we yonder?”
As Costal spoke, he pointed to the sh.o.r.e of the lake whence they had come, and near the point where they had left their horses. It was in this direction, moreover, the howlings of the ape had been heard.
Clara followed the pointing of his companion, and both now saw what gave a sudden turn to their thoughts--a party of hors.e.m.e.n carrying torches, and scouring the selvage of the woods, as if in search of something they had lost.