This mine, though very rich, was hard to deal with profitably because of the water gathered in it, and all the months that the Señor Strickland had been its captain he was employed in driving a tunnel upwards from a lower level in the cliff, in order to drain the workings. Shortly after I came into his service this tunnel was finished, for now I was able to obtain plenty of labour, which before he had lacked, and we began to bring to bank ore running as high as two hundred ounces to the ton, so that for some months all went well.
Then of a sudden the ore body dipped straight downward, as though it had been bent over when hot, and we followed it till the water increased so much that we were unable to carry it out, for in those days there were no steam pumps in Mexico, such as are now used for the drying of mines. First we tried to strike another vein, but without success; then we attempted to pierce a second drainage tunnel at a still lower level, but, after more than three months' labour, the rock became so hard that we were obliged to abandon the task.
Now there was nothing to be done except to stop work at the tunnel, and report the matter by letter to the owners of the mine, employing ourselves meanwhile in the smelting of such ore as we had stacked. This, indeed, we needed to do in order to pay wages with the silver, seeing that after the first few months the owners ceased to remit us money.
One evening, on returning from the smelting–works to the house, I found the Señor Strickland, his chin resting on his hand and an unlighted cigar in his mouth, seated at a table, on which lay an open letter. All through our misfortunes and heavy labour he had never lost heart, or forgotten to smile and be merry, but now he looked sad as a man who has just buried his mother, and I asked him what evil thing had happened.
"Nothing particular, Ignatio," he answered; "but listen here." And he read the letter aloud.
It was from one of the owners of the mine, and this was the purport of it: that the shaft had become choked with water because of the incompetence and neglect of the señor; that they, the owners, hereby dismissed him summarily, refusing to pay him the salary due; and, lastly, that they held him responsible in his own person for such money as they had lost.
"Surely," I cried in wrath, when he had finished, "this letter was written by a man without shame, and I pray that he may find his grave in the stomachs of hogs and vultures!" for I forgot myself in my indignation against those that could speak thus of the señor, who had slaved day and night in their service, giving himself no rest.
"Do not trouble, Ignatio," he said, with a little smile, "it is the way of the world. I have failed, and must take the consequences. Had I succeeded, there would have been a different story. Still I think that, if ever I meet this man again, I will kick him for telling lies about me. Do you know, Ignatio, that, with the exception of one thousand dollars which remain to my credit in Mexico, I have spent all my own money that I had saved upon this mine, and of that thousand dollars, eight hundred are due to you for back pay, so, whatever trade I take to next, I shall not begin as a rich man."
"Be silent, I beg of you, señor," I answered, "for such words make my ears burn. What! am I also a thief that I should rob you, you who have already been plucked like a fowl for the good of others? Insult me once more by such thoughts and I will never pardon you."
And I left the house to calm myself by walking among the mountains, little knowing what I should hear before I entered it again.
Chapter III
The Summons
As I walked down the street of the village I met my friend, with whom I had stayed when first I came to Cumarvo.
"Ah! lord," he said—for those who are initiated among the Indians give me this title when none are by—"I was seeking you. The scroll has been found."
"What scroll?"
"That picture–writing about the ancient mine which brought you here. You remember that he who owned the document died, and his son could not discover its whereabouts. Well, yesterday he found it by chance while he was hunting rats in the roof of his house, and brought it to me. Here it is," and he gave me a roll wrapped in yellow linen.
"Good," I answered, "I will study it to–night," and continued my walk, thinking little more about the matter, for my mind was full of other things.
The air was pleasant and the evening fine, so that I did not return to the house till the moon rose. As I passed up the path a man stepped so suddenly from the shelter of a bush in front of me, that I drew my machete, thinking that he meant to do me a mischief.
"Stay your hand, lord," said the man, saluting me humbly, and at the same time giving the sign of brotherhood. "It is many years since we met, so perchance you may have forgotten me; still, you will remember my name; I am Molas, your foster–brother."
Then I looked at him in the moonlight and knew him, though time had changed us both, and, putting my arms round him, I embraced him, seeing that he had been faithful when many deserted me, and I loved him as to–day I love his memory.
"What brings you here, Molas?" I asked; "when last I heard of you, you were dwelling far away in Chiapas."
"A strange matter: Business of the Heart, O Lord of the Heart, which I deemed so pressing that I have journeyed over land and sea to find you. Have you a place where I can speak with you alone?"
"Follow me," I said, wondering, and led him to my own chamber, where I gave him food and drink, for he was weary with travel.
"Now set out this business," I said.
"First show me the token, lord. I desire to see it once more for a purpose of my own."
I rose and closed the shutters of the window, then I bared my breast, revealing the ancient symbol. For a while he gazed upon it, and said, "It is enough. Tell me, lord, what is the saying that has descended with this trinket."
"The saying is, Molas, that when this half that I wear is reunited with the half that is wanting, then the Indians shall rule again from sea to sea, as they did when the Heart was whole."
"That is the saying, lord. We learn it in the ritual that is called 'Opening of the Heart,' do we not? and in this ritual that half which you wear is named 'Day' since it can be seen, and that half which is lost is named 'Night,' since, though present, it is not seen, and it is told to us that the 'Day' and the 'Night' together will make one perfect circle, whereof the centre is named the 'Heart of Heaven,' of which these things are the symbol. Is it not so?"
"It is so, Molas."
"Good. Now listen. That which was lost is found, the half which is named 'Night' has appeared in the land, for I have seen it with my eyes, and it is to tell you of it that I have travelled hither."
"Speak on," I said.
"Lord, yonder in Chiapas there is a ruined temple that the antiguos built, and to that temple have come a man and a woman, his daughter. The man is old and fierce–eyed, a terrible man, and the girl is beautiful exceedingly. There in the ruins they have dwelt these four months and more, and the man practises the art of medicine, for he is a great doctor, and has wrought many cures, though he takes no money in payment for his skill, but food only.
"Now it chanced, lord, that my wife, whom I married but two years ago, was very sick—so sick that the village doctor could do nothing for her. Therefore the fame of the old Indian who dwelt in the ruined temple having reached me, I determined to visit him and seek his counsel, or, if possible, to bring him to my home.
"When my wife heard of it, she said it was of no use, as she saw Death sitting at the foot of her bed. Still I kissed her and went, leaving her in charge of the padre of the village and some women, her sisters. With me I took a lock of her hair, and some fowls and eggs as a present to the Lacandone, for they said that, though of our race, this doctor was not a Christian.