The first Mongolian city. Mention of Yucatan.
I tell no tale of flight across the waste and waters. Of death struck beasts who fell a prey to creeping things that love the night. Of famine-threatened creatures pining sore for homes of plenty left, alas! too far to turn again to home for help they needed.
Of how at last the river, long and serpent-wise that spews its clear, sweet waters in the sea, that giveth life to banks all decked with green which feeds the multitudes, was made from straggling brook by hands of men who rent the toughened sod and formed a channel broad and deep.
Upon its banks their tents were pitched. The city, populous at first, was built in mind, then took it shape from hands of skilful workers.
Streets which cross and wind were but the fancy of the crafty one who held the keys which locked the nation's useless horde, for many years but useless—useless, as they sought no more their ancient home where gold in grains were held for merchandise.
He argued: “Streets that broadly lie invite the hordes which soon will gather from afar for spoil when known becomes our hiding place. But serpent winding way will show each face to him who peereth from his window low or high. Condensed be our city. All who dwell therein be known. No spy who seeketh word of Kling—our monarch, Kling, the great, or I, who bartered fame adown the centuries long for greed of gold, now worthless, lives to cast an eye to gods.
“He dieth at a stroke who seeketh our land nor liveth to plead to ear.”
The temples founded none might hope for life who deviated from the teachings of the priests. The leeches' skill was tempered to conditions of the land, and teachers taught as seemed good to him who lauded Kling, yet ruled him heart and soul!
They passed—those plotters. In their place strange creatures sprung, the growth of mind impressed with greed and fear and solitude of steppes; yet round the base of that vast temple builded first they clung, athirst for learning.
Thus each mind was shaped according to a law formed from stern need and inclination of a brain that grasped all law and made it fit caprice.
A nation vast there sprung where but a group of wanderers first had cast their tents, yet still a people like and like as kin. For following certain details warps the will, and trendeth to one point a thousand wills bent to the stronger mood of him who seeks the law as whip to lash to purpose every soul within his reach.
Akin; yet not akin, they grew with certain bonds unbroken. Mark of Time rests on the central point where wisely built the One who keeps stern council.
Shape the mind to one example it may grow unchanged and pass its unchanged moods to them that follow. All seek a symbol of some higher mind and bow submissive to a stronger will, and shape their moods to fit the mood of one who wills submission. They grew apace, possessed wise minds and drank the crafty poise of him, their teacher, in the dawn of race; for crafty he and thus adown the line ran guile.
And later, when the land did teem with people who forgot the source of their great nation, seemingly,
war was proclaimed aloud and tribe met tribe and slaughter fouled the land.
In history the race held the place of hybrid. Atlantian sires, but other races mixed their puny blood through mothers—slaves, the weaklings of the world in that new age. Still, training brought to bear on sons made men of strength surpassed by none in early age, and well were grown the hordes that peopled steppes.
The cities lesser growth in man form knew; for air and water, food which builds the brain and bulk, were there but poison for the child to thrive on. Mind indeed was fed, but body strength seemed lost to growth of mind. The law which worketh out its will that one may thrive but at the others’ loss.
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Atlantis, thou art lost, thy people of pure blood but represented in my land by those who pour o’er tomes and sigh for glories passed. In that land the hybrid creeps to leash and nothing knows, perchance, of that great island's loss where, in the dim past age, his sires far out in line had dwelt.
Ah, yellow slant of eye, the hordes we see, but glorious in their youth in that past day, when swarthy-browed the plunderers bold first set their feet on sands that teem with men who shrink from new conditions; bravery of soul of order that will suffer, yet not draw the sword on foe.
Atlantis knew but bravery in war. The sons of Yucatan have grown a peaceful tribe. Atlantis spake for peace in early age. With both, the mind was all supreme and speech and craft held sway above the sword. The drop which lingereth yet of kinship giveth proof—the gift of barter—of concealment—
truth to vows if they perchance are made according to conditions naught shall break.
In tomes ye read of one who sought that land in that dim age so far agone it seems but as a vision firmly set in midst of actual life. This one made mention of a fruitful isle that sunk, and struck with terror—so tradition planteth in his breast—the ruler willed the stranger die by stealth lest he create a thirst for knowledge strong of other lands.
"We live and die," spake he—the ruler—"in bonds of country. Cursed be the bones that lie in alien soil. Unrest shall seize the soul which feels its husk a part of any land save of its birth. Ah, people of this earth! thy ways and moods shall change to fit the planes on which ye trend; yet ever are there gleams of that far spot amid the higher scenes ye yet shall know. A memory of the Earth home.