The Stars' Ball

IT was not so very long after the children had crowned him Lord of the Sacred Tunkel until the Golden Hearted planned to have them all with him again. He made up his mind to spend his lifetime teaching because he thought that was the most useful thing he could do, but he was determined to make the lessons for the children as pleasant as possible. He and the wise men taught the older people how to divide the days into weeks, months and years, and how to make a calendar, and all about the sun and the moon and the stars, but this was too hard for the children. So he decided to take them up on the roof of the Temple of the Sun in the moonlight and tell them some simple pretty story about the sky at night.

In that country, the houses were built with flat roofs covered with red tiles, and there was either a ladder or a winding staircase from the ground, so it was not much trouble to get up on the roof. In fact, many of the dwellings had beautiful potted plants up there, and it was really a pleasant place to go of a warm summer evening. This night there was not a breath of air, and the children did not need anything on their heads nor any wraps. Only around the lower edges of the sky were there clouds and these were soft and white like big piles of cotton. The whole heavens looked like a bright blue veil thickly sprinkled with diamonds. It was very still and quiet and there were so many flowers in bloom that the very atmosphere was fragrant with them. In the mill pond close by the frogs croaked, and around the eaves of the houses the crickets and katydids were singing an evening hymn.

It was just a lovely night to go out and nearly every one was in the street. The doors and windows were wide open, and the people went about bareheaded and laughed and chatted to their heart's content.

"The goodness of this perfect night be upon my little friends," said the prince, when he came up on the roof of the Temple and found a lot of children he knew. "I have invited you to witness the stars' ball to-night, but before we begin, I must introduce you to the most prominent ones."

Then he pointed out the milky way with its millions of stars that looked like little pin heads in a band of light because they were so far away. Below the handle of the big dipper, and off to one side was the north star. Jupiter with his broad dark bands and tiny moons was there, and so was Saturn with his three rings. Over in another place was Mars twinkling and batting his eyes as if he wanted to fight something. The Dog Star was still lower down and quite by himself.

"I will first make you acquainted with the big-faced, silver moon," said the prince. "She is sailing along as if she were in a great hurry, but there will be time enough for you to see the man up there if you look sharp about it."

The children knew there was not a surely man in the moon so they all laughed and clapped their hands and then threw kisses at the beautiful queen of the night.

"I cannot show you Mercury, the messenger of the sun, because he is such a sleepy head he has already gone to bed. He never stays up long after the sun goes down, but he is an industrious little fellow and often gets up first in the morning."

The children thought that was a very funny way to speak of a star, but they saw the prince was in a good humor and they enjoyed listening to what he said.

"Venus is our evening star," he continued, pointing to the brightest object in the western sky, "and she is winking and smiling at us. Look closely now, and see if you can find her."

When all the children had seen her, the Golden Hearted turned to another part of the heavens and said, "Here is old Father Time, who frowns and scowls, and finally grinds the life out of our bodies." He was speaking about Saturn because it rolls and tumbles one way while its three rings whirl around the other way, and all the people in olden times believed that the stars could give good or bad luck and could make our lives long or short. There were a number of this kind of fortune tellers among the wise men, so of course the prince knew what they thought about the stars. The children understood it too, and when he pointed out Saturn, they said to each other in a whisper, "It is the death star; let us hope it will not shine upon us nor upon those we love."

"If we have need to fear the Master of Time, we have every reason to love the broad-belted planet with its sturdy little companions. It has been rightly named 'The Beneficent,'" said the prince—indicating the position of Jupiter among the stars. "Its children pop in and out behind it as if they were playing hide and seek."

For ages people thought that Jupiter gave them good luck and made them wise, tender and kind. This is why the children said, "The big, white, shining star has a heart like our prince."

Mars is the nearest planet to us, and he sputters and fumes as if he really had as bad a temper as these people credited him with. All the wars and troubles they had came from him, they said, and the children did not care to look at him very long. He gives out a beautiful red light, while Jupiter is bluish white, and the Dog Star has all colors like the rainbow.

"Now," said the prince, "I will show you the most important group in the sky. It is the Pleiades, directly over our heads at this time. There are seven of these sisters, and the pale, dim one is the center of the whole system of stars because all the rest of them circle around her."

Then he explained to them how each star and planet, as well as the earth, turns over and over of its own accord, besides going around the sun in a very wide circle. All the stars are wonderful tumblers and they spin around just like tops, and this whirling motion was what made the prince say that they were having a ball. When they twinkled and sparkled, he said they were dancing.

As soon as he sat down, one of the children got the Sacred Tunkel, and then some took hold of his hands, others held on to his mantle and still others put their arms around his neck and begged him to sing for them. He did not wish to refuse them, but he did not know any song suitable for the occasion so he made this up as he went along:

 
Oh! the stars one and all
They had a great ball
One night way up in the sky;
They invited the earth
To join in their mirth
But it feared to go up so high.
 
 
No fiddler had they
Their music to play,
And the stars were afraid 'twould fail;
But the man in the moon
He whistled a tune
And the comet kept time with his tail.
 
 
They danced and they danced,
And they pranced and they pranced,
Till the moon said 'twas all he desired,
For his lips were so sore
He could whistle no more,
And the comet began to get tired.
 
 
So they faded away
In the dim light of day
The moon and the stars from the ball.
But, sad to relate,
Next night they were late,
And came near not shining at all.
 

The National Book

BECAUSE it is possible for persons to do both good and evil in their lives, and to think good and bad thoughts, the wise men and the Golden Hearted studied how to keep these ideas before the people all the time. In those days, the natives of that country had no books and no way of writing and it was necessary to select some familiar object to represent the meaning of many things. Whatever is used for such a purpose, is called a symbol.

The hippopotamus, the crocodile and the tapir are to this day said to be symbols of humanity because they have two natures. They can live in the water or on the land, and search for food either in the day or night time. Of the three animals, the wise men selected the tapir because it is a shy, inoffensive creature, not much larger than a sheep and lives on green grasses and herbs. During the day it sleeps quietly in the water or on the bank of a stream and at night comes on land to get food. When its coat is dry, it is of a dark brown color, but when wet, it is black and shining. A tapir looks very much like a fat donkey except that its ears are not so long and its nose not quite so stumpy. At Nachan the wise men raised great herds of them as an example and illustration of our good and bad self.

The Golden Hearted realized that he must do more than found a large city and teach the children, so he had a Dark House built away under ground where he could store treasures and all the records of his journey. This was a secret passageway, and in its halls and labyrinths he had quantities of statuary and pottery put for safe keeping. While this was being done, he wrote a book called in his language "The Popol Vuh" but we would say it is a national book because it tells all about the beginning of the world and is divided into four parts. It is a most singular story, and has been translated so we can read it for ourselves. It is said to be the oldest book in America, and the Golden Hearted kept an order of wise men in the Dark House underground to guard it from one generation to another.

The Popul Vuh

This is the beginning of the history of things which came to pass long ago; of the division of the earth, the property of all; its origin and its foundation, as well as the narrative of our life in the land of shadows, and of how we saw the light. It is the first book written in the olden times, but its view is hidden from him who sees and thinks.

Behold the first word and the first discourse. There was as yet no man, nor any animal, nor bird, nor fish, nor crawfish, nor any pit, nor any ravine, nor green herb, nor any tree.

Nothing was but the firmament.

The face of the earth had not yet appeared—only the peaceful sea and all the space of heaven. There was nothing yet joined together, nothing that clung to anything else; nothing that balanced itself, that made the least rustling, that made a sound in the heaven. There was nothing that stood up; nothing but silence and darkness and night time.

Alone were those that engender, those that give being; they were upon the waters like a growing light. They consulted together and meditated; they mingled their words and their opinions.

"Earth!" they said, and on the instant it was formed; like a cloud of fog was its beginning.

Then the mountains rose over the water like great lobsters. In an instant the mountains and plains were visible and the cypress and the pine trees appeared.

The Heart of Heaven cried out and said:

"Blessed be thy coming. Our work and our labor has accomplished its end."

The earth and its vegetation having appeared, it was peopled with the various forms of animal life. And the makers said to the animals, "Speak now our name. Honor Him who begets and Him who gives being. Speak, call on us, salute us."

But the animals could not answer. They could only cluck and croak, each murmuring after its kind in a different manner.

This displeased the creators, and they said to the animals:

"Inasmuch as ye cannot praise us, neither call upon our names, your flesh shall be humiliated. It shall be broken with teeth. Ye shall be killed and eaten."

The first man was made of clay, but he was watery, had no strength and could not turn his head. His face looked one way all the time. He was given a language, but he had no intelligence, so he was consumed in water.

"Let us make an intelligent being who shall adore and invoke us," said the Thunderbolt and the Lightning Flash.

It was decided that a man should be made of wood and a woman of a kind of pith. They were made but the result was in no wise satisfactory. They moved about perfectly well it is true; they increased and multiplied and peopled the world with little wooden manikins like themselves, but the heart and intelligence were wanting. They had no memory of their Maker; they lived like the beasts and forgot the Heart of Heaven. They had neither blood nor substance, nor moisture nor fat. Their cheeks were shriveled; their feet and hands dried up.

Then was the Heart of Heaven very wroth, and he sent ruin and destruction upon these ingrates. He rained upon them night and day with a thick resin and the earth was all dark.

The men went mad with terror. They tried to mount up on the roofs, but the houses fell with them. They tried to climb the trees, but the trees shook them from their branches. They tried to hide in the caves and dens of the earth, but these closed against them.

Then their heads were cut off, and their bones broken and bruised, and their eyes picked out by the birds, and their flesh eaten by wild beasts.

Thus were they all devoted to chastisement and destruction save only a few who were preserved as memorials of the wooden men. These now exist in the forests as little apes.

In the night the gods counseled together again. "Of what shall we make man?" they said.

Then the Creator made four perfect men out of white and yellow corn. The name of the first one was The Tiger With the Sweet Smile, the second one was called The Tiger of the Night, the third one was The Distinguished Name, and the fourth was The Tiger of the Moon. They had neither father nor mother, but their coming into existence was a miracle wrought by the special intervention of Him who is pre-eminently the Creator.

At last were there found men worthy of their origin and their destiny. Verily the gods looked on beings who could see with their eyes and handle with their hands and understand with their hearts. Grand of countenance and broad of limb, the four sires of our race stood up under the white rays of the morning star.

Their great, clear eyes swept rapidly over all. They saw the woods, the rocks, the lakes and the sea; the mountains and the valleys, and they gazed up into heaven not knowing what they had come so far to do. Their hearts were filled with love, obedience and fear. Lifting up their eyes, they returned thanks saying:

"Hail! O Creator, Thou that lovest and understandest us! We offer up our thanks. We have been created—abandon us not, forsake us not! Give us descendants and a posterity as long as the light endures. Give us to walk always in an open wood in a path without snares; to lead quiet lives free of all reproach."

But the Gods were not wholly pleased with this thing. Heaven, they thought, had overshot its mark. These men were too perfect; knew, understood and saw too much.

"What shall we do with man now?" they said. "This that we see is not good. Let us contract man's sight so he may see only a little of the surface of the earth and be content."

Thereupon, the Heart of Heaven breathed a cloud over the pupils of the eyes of the men, and a veil came over each eye as when one breathes on the face of a mirror. Thus was the globe of the eye darkened, nor was that which was far off clear to it any more.

Then they fell asleep and when they woke up, the gods had brought each one of them a wife. They lived tranquilly together for a long time waiting for the rising of the sun, because they had nothing but the morning star for a light.

But no sun came, and the four men and their families grew uneasy.

"We have no one to watch over us, no one to guard our symbols," they said. So they all set out for the Seven Caves.

Poor wanderers. They had a cruel way to go, many forests to penetrate, many high mountains to climb, and a long passage to make through the sea. Much hail and cold rain fell on their heads, and when their fires all went out they suffered from hunger as well as cold.

At last they came to a mountain and here they rested. While there they were told that the sun was coming very soon. Then they shook their incense pans and danced for very gladness. As the sun commenced to advance, the animals, great and small, were filled with delight. They raised themselves to the surface of the waters, they fluttered in the ravines, and gathering at the edge of the mountains, turned their heads together toward that part from which the sun came.

The lion and the tiger roared, and the first bird that sang was the Quetzal. All the animals were beside themselves at the sight. The eagle and the kite beat their wings, and the men prostrated themselves on the ground.

The sun and the moon and the stars were all established. Yet was not the sun the same as now. His heat wanted force, and he was but as a reflection in a mirror. Nevertheless he dried up and warmed the surface of the earth and answered many good ends.

There was another wonder when the sun rose. The tribal gods who had punished these poor people so were turned into stone. And so were all the mammoth lions, tigers, vipers, and other fierce and dangerous animals.