Читать книгу The Stories of El Dorado - Frona Eunice Wait - Страница 6

NO one living can tell how many years ago it was that the Golden Hearted built Nachan, the city of wise men, nor how many years it took to do the work, but it has always been said to be a very beautiful place. Anyhow, it was after he left the Quinames, and it was in a country very much more civilized.

The Golden Hearted had many happy days there.

Even if he was a grown man and a great prince, he was very fond of children and one day he visited the Temple of the Sun where the pupils from school were having a holiday. They all had on their best clothes, and their faces and hands were clean, but they were shouting, and singing and playing games, very much like the boys and girls we know. They felt sure that the Golden Hearted was their good friend and when they saw him coming they ran out into the courtyard and crowded around him as thick as flies.

"A story! a story!" they said; "Please, good Prince, tell us a story."

"What shall it be about?" asked the Golden Hearted with a pleasant smile.

"Something very perfect and beautiful," they said.

"Let me think what we have in the world that is both perfect and beautiful. Which would you prefer, something man has made, or that God has made?"

The children were very much puzzled to know which to choose. They tried hard to think what man had made that was without any faults and could not be imitated or improved, either in appearance or quality, but they were not satisfied with anything. Then they began to think about the trees, the flowers, the precious stones, the sky and the sea, and were getting more and more confused all the time when the Golden Hearted laughed and said:

"I will tell you what we will do. We will send for the wise men and ask them to choose."

The wise men thought it was great fun, so they hurried as fast as they could and were quite out of breath when they got near enough to speak to the Golden Hearted.

"Tell me something you know in the world that is both perfect and beautiful," he said to the wise man who had charge of the Temple of the Sun, and was first to arrive.

"The great, blazing, glorious sun," he replied.

"None but God could have made it, and we adore it and sacrifice to it because it is the mask behind which God hides His ever-smiling face."

Many of the children shaded their eyes with their hands and took a quick look at the sun overhead, and thought that was a good answer.

"What do you know in the world that is both perfect and beautiful?" asked the prince of the next comer, who was a man wise in the art of working metals. He had not heard the first answer, but, without stopping a minute to think, said:

"Gold; because it is like the substance of the sun and cannot be made by putting any metals together nor by any mixture of chemicals."

The Golden Hearted knew that was a correct answer but he wanted the children to be satisfied, and he was not sure that all of them understood it.

"Do you know that way down in the earth gold is created, and yet it is shining and bright and yellow like the light of the sun? This accounts for its beauty, and it is perfect because it is absolutely pure in itself."

The next man that came along was wise, but he looked like a farmer.

"What have you seen in your life that cannot be improved or made prettier?"

"Wheat," was his quick reply, "because it is not a blend of any of the grains or grasses but grows out of the ground perfect. It is beautiful in every phase of its life whether it waves in the wind like a sea of emeralds or ripens into great sheaves of gold, or its plump grains tempt you to satisfy hunger. It is the best friend man has, and it would be very hard for him to live without it."

That was such a sensible answer, that the children all clapped their hands with delight because they knew at once that it was correct. Just then the Golden Hearted looked up and saw one of his best perfumers in the group of wise men.

"Will you give us an answer to this question?" he asked.

"I should differ from all the others"—began the man.

"Never mind, tell us what in your line is the most perfect and beautiful thing you know."

"A jasmine blossom," replied the perfumer, "because its delicate odor cannot be imitated no matter what combination of oils or extracts we make. I cannot say that of any other flower in the world."

The children could have answered that question themselves if they had only thought quickly enough. They were quite familiar with the dainty little white flowers and tender vine of the jasmine as well as its sweet smell, because it grew wild in their country.

While the perfumer was talking, the Golden Hearted picked up a shining pebble near his feet.

"Now, children," he said, "in this small rough stone I find something perfect and beautiful. It is an opal, the only one of the precious gems I do not know how to counterfeit. Join hands, as many of you as can, and dance around me while I sing you a song about the birth of the opal."

One of the wise men gave him a Sacred Tunkel, a kind of guitar which he brought from the Temple of the Sun, and this was what he sang:

The Birth of the Opal

Some of the pupils were inclined to think that the singing of the Golden Hearted was the most perfect and beautiful they had ever heard and they all liked to listen to the low plaintive notes of the Tunkel. Those that could not take part in the dance gathered around their teachers and asked:

"What shall we do to honor the good prince and show him how much we appreciate his efforts to amuse and please us?"

"Ask him to allow you to answer your own question," they said, "and then tell him something about your feathered friends. Have you forgotten the hermit of the woods with its rainbow plumes three feet long and its gay scarlet breast?"

The name of this bird is the Quetzal, and it lives on the high mountain tops all alone and is only about the size of a pigeon.

When the Golden Hearted finished singing and the dancers were all standing still, a bright-faced boy approached and said, "We have an answer to our own question, good prince."

"Say on, my little man, I am listening to you."

"It is the Quetzal, the rarest bird in the world, and the most perfect and beautiful of all feathered creatures. With its brilliant luster plumes I crown you Lord of the Sacred Tunkel, as a reward for your sweet singing. May the children of every land know and love you as we do."

The Golden Hearted was much surprised and pleased with his new crown and ever after wore the feathers of the Quetzal in his head dress. So long as he remained in Nachan, he was called the Lord of the Sacred Tunkel because he could play so well upon this queerly-shaped guitar.