"The Spaniards will go there some day," he said; "and although they would kill me without hesitation, if they found an Englishman there before them; I might yet, in some way or other, manage to achieve my escape."
Accordingly, he asked Malinche to teach him her language; and at the end of the six months he could converse with her in it, almost as readily as he could in Tabascan; for in learning it he had none of the initial difficulties he had at first encountered, in acquiring Tabascan–the latter language serving as a medium.
The year which had elapsed, since the Swan sailed from Plymouth, had effected great alteration in Roger's figure. He had grown several inches, and had widened out greatly; and was fulfilling the promise of his earlier figure, by growing into an immensely large and powerful man. He was, even now, half a head taller than the very tallest of the natives of Tabasco; and in point of strength, was still more their superior. Thus, although the belief in his supernatural origin was rapidly dying out, a certain respect for his size and strength prevented any of his opponents from any open exhibition of hostility. The fact, too, of his perfect fearlessness of demeanor added to this effect. Roger carried himself well, and as, with head erect, he strolled through the streets of Tabasco, with a step that contrasted strongly with the light and nimble one of the slenderly built natives, men made way for him; while his sunny hair, which fell in short waves back from his forehead, his fearless gray eyes, and the pleasant expression of his mouth, rendered him a source of admiration to the women; who, with scarce an exception, still believed firmly that he was no ordinary human being.
One day, when Roger was dressing in the morning, he heard excited talking in the street, and the sound of hurrying feet.
"What has happened this morning, Malinche?" he called out.
"The merchants have come," she said. "The merchants from my country."
As Roger had heard, from her, that a trade was carried on by Mexico with the surrounding countries, by merchants who traveled in parties, with strong bodies of armed men, and that they had been at Tabasco but a few days only before he had first arrived there, and might be expected again in about a year, he was not surprised at the news. He had, indeed, been looking forward to this visit; for he felt that his position was getting more and more unsafe, and that the cazique would not be able, much longer, to support him against the hostility of the majority of the men of importance in the town. What he had heard from Malinche had greatly raised his curiosity with regard to her country, and his longing to see these people, whom she described as invincible in war, and so infinitely superior in civilization to the Tabascans.
He had closely inquired, from Malinche, whether she thought he would be well received, did he reach her country. Malinche's opinion was not encouraging.
"I think," she said, "that they would sacrifice you in the temples. All our gods love sacrifices, and every year countless persons are offered up to them."
"It is a horrible custom, Malinche."
Malinche did not seem to be impressed, as he expected.
"Why?" she asked. "They would be killed in battle, were they not kept for sacrifice. The Aztecs never kill if they can help it, but take prisoners, so that death comes to them in one way instead of another; and it is better to be killed in the service of the gods, than to fall uselessly in battle."
"I don't think so at all, Malinche. In battle one's blood's up, and one scarcely feels pain; and if one is killed one is killed, and there is an end of it. That is quite different to being put to death in cold blood. And do they sacrifice women, as well as men?"
"Sometimes, but not so many," she said; "and in dry weather they offer up children to Talloc, the god of rain."
"But they cannot capture them in war," Roger said, horrified.
"No, they are sold by their parents, who have large families, and can do without one or two."
To Malinche, brought up in the hideous religion of the Mexicans, these things appeared as a matter of course; and she could scarcely understand the horror, and disgust, which her description of the sacrifices to her gods caused him.
"And you think that they would sacrifice me, Malinche?"
"I cannot say," she replied. "The priests are masters in these things. If they said sacrifice, they would sacrifice you; but if they thought you a god, you would be treated with great honor. How can I tell? I think that they would pay you greater honor than here, but of course I cannot tell."
"Why should they pay me greater honor, Malinche?"
"Because one of our gods was white. Quetzalcoatl was the kindest of our gods. He taught us the use of metals, instructed us how to till the ground, and laid down all the rules for good government. When he lived in Anahuac everyone was happy. Every head of corn was so big that a man could scarce carry one. The earth was full of flowers and fruit. Cotton grew of many colors, so that there was no need to dye it, and the very birds sang more sweetly than they have ever sung since. Ah! If Quetzalcoatl had always stopped with us, we should have been happy, indeed!"
"But why did he not, Malinche?"
Malinche shook her head.
"He was a god, but not one of the greatest, and one of these grew angry with him–I cannot tell who. Perhaps it was the god of war, who saw that the Anahuans were so happy that they no longer went out to conquer other people, and to provide sacrifices for him. Perhaps they were jealous, because the people worshiped Quetzalcoatl more than them. Anyhow, they were angry with him, and he was obliged to leave us.
"He came down to the sea, and took leave of the people, promising that he or his descendants would some day revisit them. Then he took his seat in his boat, which was formed of serpent skins, and sailed away, and has never been seen again. But we all know that one day, if he does not come himself, white people will come from the sea to us.
"I think, Roger, that you are one of the descendants of Quetzalcoatl; and I think my countrymen would think so, too, and would hold you in great honor, if the priests, who are very powerful, did not turn them against you."
"What was this god like?" asked Roger.
"He was tall in stature, and he had a white skin; and his hair was not like yours, for it was long and dark, and flowed over his shoulders, and he had a great beard. But as you are tall and white, you are like him; and as he went towards the rising sun, it may be that, afterwards, his hair changed from black to a color like yours, which seems to me brown when you are sitting here, but gold when the sun falls on it."
"So it seems, Malinche, that I may be sacrificed, or I may be taken for a god! I would much rather that they would be content to treat me for what I am–a man like themselves, only of a different race and color."
Roger had many conversations of this kind with Malinche, and as he felt his position becoming daily more precarious among the Tabascans, had come to believe that he should have at least as good a chance, among the Aztecs, as where he was.
In return for all the girl told him about her country, he told her much about his own. He explained to her that there were many peoples among the whites, as among the reds; and they fought against each other in battle, having weapons which made a noise like thunder, and killed at a great distance. He told her how one of these peoples, named Spaniards, had conquered many islands not very far distant from Tabasco; and how assuredly they would come, in time, and try to conquer this country, too. He explained that, while the nation to which he belonged was, at present, at peace with the Spaniards, they were not allowed to come into this part of the world; and that, had he and those who had sailed with him fallen into their hands, they would have been all put to death.
The news, then, that the Aztec traders had arrived was a matter of as much interest, to Roger, as to the people of the town. These looked forward to purchasing many things which they could not otherwise obtain; for the gold ornaments, the rich feather mantles, and most of the other articles of superior manufacture which Roger had seen, were not the work of the natives of Tabasco, but of their powerful neighbors.
The traders would stay, Malinche said, for four or five days, at least; and Roger, therefore, thought it better not to go out to see them, until he learned what were the cazique's views concerning him. He therefore remained quietly at home, all day.
Upon the following morning he received a summons from the cazique.
"White man," the chief said, "I have spoken to the Anahuac traders concerning you, and they have a great desire to see you. Therefore you will, this morning, accompany us to their camp."
An hour afterwards Roger started with the cazique, and a numerous body of the latter's counselors and attendants. The encampment of the Anahuans was a quarter of a mile from the town. In the center rose a large tent, the abode of the merchants; and around, ranged in regular order, were the rough huts erected by their escort.
These were assembled in military array. They were, like the Tabascan soldiers, clad in thick quilted doublets. Their spears were tipped with copper; or with obsidian, a stone resembling flint, of great hardness, and capable of taking a very sharp edge.
In front of the tent were several banners, embroidered in different devices in gold and feather work. Roger afterwards learned that merchants were held in far higher consideration in Anahuac than in Europe, that their business was considered as one of great honor, and that they were permitted to assume what may be called heraldic devices on their standards, to carry bright-feathered plumes, and to wear gold ornaments–such decorations being only allowed to warriors who had, by their deeds in battle, been admitted into an institution which closely resembled that of knighthood; all others dressing in plain white cloths, woven from thread obtained from the aloe. Even members of the royal family were not exempted from this law.
The whole trade of the country was in the hands of these merchants, who traded not only to its utmost borders, but with neighboring people. They were allowed to raise forces sufficient for their protection; they furnished the government with descriptions of the people they visited; and often afforded the State a pretext for wars and annexations, by getting up quarrels with the natives. They resembled, in fact, the East India Company during the last century, mingling in their persons the military and mercantile character.