to Home Page

 

 

ANCIENT MAYAN TEXTS

 

 

THE CREATIVE TRINITY

Tepeu, Gucumatz and Hurakán

 
 
 
 
 
 

The Popol Vuh

 
 
(For this new English translation of this important work, the translator is Suzanne D. Fisher; editorial comments, inserted in the text, as it proceeds, are by Dr. Bruce S. Fisher. Several Spanish versions of this work have been availed upon for this English translation, including that of Ermilo A. Gómez.)
 

 
Prologue: History of the Translation of the Popol Vuh
 
Part I - The Patriarchs
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter
 
Part II - The Wizards
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
 
 

 

 

 

HUNAB KU - The Galactic Center

 

 

 

 

The Chilam Balam

 

(For this new English translation of this important work, the translator is Suzanne D. Fisher; editorial comments, inserted in the text, as it proceeds, are by Dr. Bruce S. Fisher. The Spanish version of Antonio Mediz Bolio is being used.)

 

 

 
Books of the Chilam Balam of Chumayel
 
 

To Unique and Unusual Esoteric Books!

 
 
 
 

THE POPOL VUH

 
 

PROLOGUE

 

History of the Translations of the Popol Vuh

 

 
There are several translations of the Popol Vuh. The first and second correspond to the discoverer (of the original version written in the Quiché Mayan language) - P. Francisco Ximénez. Then in 1861 appeared the French translation of Abbé Brasseur who availed himself of the Quiché copy and of the first version of Ximénez. This author was able to consult with the learned Indians of Guatemala as to many of the more difficult passages. Unfortunately, however, he added to the errors of Ximénez's translation his own errors, and these are more serious because he attributes to the Mayan Indians a kind of understanding of occidental culture, which they, in reality, did not possess. In 1913 Noah E. Pohorilles translated the Popol Vuh into German, availing himself of the French version of Abbé Brasseur, although he says that he did the translation directly from the Quiché language. Later, in 1925, Georges Renaud published another French version. This translator, likewise, leaned on the works of Ximénez and the Abbé; but it is evident that he worked more rigorously and amended not a few errors of the previous versions. In 1927, the version attributed to J. Antonio Villacorta and Flavio Rodas appeared which also, as modern critics say, suffers from not a few errors-above all in the translation of the names of the gods themselves and of the princes. The most exact version is attributed the erudite Adrián Recinos. He appeared in Mexico in 1947. This version was based upon the first Castillian version of P. Ximénez whose original version included the (names of) the avatars; it was in the University of Guatemala library, passed to the care of Abbé Brasseur, and then it became part of the library of the North American Edward E. Ayer and now is in the Newberry Library of Chicago. This discovery allowed Mr. Recino to undertake a new Castilian version. He was able to accomplish better comparisons with the copies of that manuscript, which are preserved, and a more adequate and scrupulous redaction. The Recinos version is a faithful translation of the Quiché text, but the author comments: "It would be easy to give the narration a literary form more agreeable to the ear of the modern reader, but this only would continue to sacrifice the faithfulness that the translator must preserve as a proper standard in a work of this nature." But we (Gomez's comment) think that with the eagerness to preserve primitive forms - in this case passive and repetitious statements - the reading becomes arid, tedious and slightly less than tolerable. On the other hand, the Quiché Mayan Indian speaks to us in the same way. The Indian, independently of his metaphors and his symbols, speaks with clarity and simplicity in an extremely captivating manner. To do anything else is to pretend to respect an artificial and almost eclectic form, strange to the nature of the people. Preserving archaic forms of any literature - spoken or written - is to condemn it to be forgotten. Because something in classic Greek or Latin is translated into the modern idiom of England, Germany, Italy, France and Spain, we have admirable versions that afford us the sheer pleasure of the original without losing its essence and its esthetic character. Thus we see it in actual editions from the classics which are utilized not only for the reading material of a large sector of the public, but also in order to undertake technical studies in the universities.
 
In the version which is reproduced here the errors have been corrected that were suggested by Ximénez as well as the Abbé Brasseur; that is, the order of the legends (which are only two: The Grandfathers and The Wizards) is structured in such a way as to earn comprehensibility for the book though modernized syntax and orthography, which makes the reading easier and more ductile. One here finds a Popol Vuh, which is alive, and not a hermetic Popol Vuh comprehensible only for the erudite. The powerful and mysterious world of the Quiché that preserves the pages of the Popul Vuh is opened before the reader's eyes as is opened a landscape on a sunny day.
 
 

PART I

The Patriarchs

 
 
 

Chapter 1

 
At that time (before the creation), there were no people, no animals, no trees, no rocks, nor anything. All was a wasteland, desolate and limitless. Above the inert flatness, space lay immobile; while above the chaos, the motionless immensity of the sea was resting. There was neither structure nor activity. What was below was unlike what was above, not one thing was seen standing. Only the deaf calmness of the waters was felt, which seemed to be precipitated into the abyss. In the silence of the shadows lived the gods who are called Tepeu, Gucumatz and Hurakán - whose names guard the secrets of creation, of existence and of death, of the earth to be formed and of the beings who will inhabit it.*
 
* This alludes to the creative trinities common to a number of traditions - in which there is a form-creating, form-preserving and form-destroying aspect, as in the Hindu trimurti of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva; and the Christian trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. In the Book of Formation (Sepher Yetzirah) of the Kabbalah, it is said thet "God created the world through three sepharim or universal books or numerations, namely, numbers, letters and sounds - which in him are one and the same."
 
When the gods arrived at the place where the shadows were deposited, the shadows, speaking among themselves, made known their sentiments and agreed among themselves what should be done.
 
They thought about how they would produce the light, which would transmit nourishment from the universal source of energy. Light then was made in the bosom of what was to be created. Thus they contemplated the original nature of life that is in the bosom of the unknown. Propitiously, the gods then saw the existence of the beings that were going to be born; and in the presence of this certainty, they said:
 
"It is good that the earth is empty and the waters divide from the low places, in order that these may be cultivated. In them (the waters) the seed will be fertile because of the dew from the air and because of the subterranean humidity. Trees will grow, will be covered with flowers and will give fruit and will scatter its seed. From the fruit trees harvested, the inhabitants will eat what is produced. In this way they will have nature as the source of their food. Never will they have another source. They will die the day that it is done differently."
 
Thus was resolved the field of existence where the new beings would live. Then the clouds parted which filled the space that was between the heavens and the firmament. Beneath them and over the water of the firmament, hills and mountains began to appear that are seen today. In the valleys were formed clumps of cypress, oaks, cedars, and poplars. An agrarian and sweet aroma was emitted from the very rich sap of these trees. Then the path was opened that divided the dry space from the humid space.
 
Upon seeing what was done, the gods said:
 
"The first creation has been concluded and it is beautiful before our eyes."
 
Immediately they wanted to finish the work they had proposed. They then said:
 
"It is not good that the trees grow alone, surrounded by shadows; they need to have guardians and servants."
 
In this way they decided to place under the branches and next to the trunk rooted in the earth, the beasts and the animals that according to their fiat, obeyed the commands of the gods, but remained inert in the place of their birth as if they were blind and insensible. They moved without order or direction, bumping against the things that were in their way. Upon seeing this, the gods said:
 
"You, beast, you, animal, you will drink in the rivers; you will sleep in the caves; you will walk on all fours, and you will have a soft, mushy head, but in time your back will serve to carry burdens.* And because of all this you will not resist nor boast of rebellion, not even of exhaustion. You, bird, you will live in the trees and you will fly through the air, reaching the region of the clouds, you will touch the transparency of the sky and will not be afraid of falling. Thus you will multiply and your children and the children of your children will do the same, and will continue in every way your example and your grace."
 
* This statement alludes to the theosophical, and other, teachings - that the first races or forms did not possess rigid or bony structures, as do the plants, animals and humans of the present epoch, but were ethereal, gelatinous or, at most, cartilaginous in consistency.
 
The beasts, the animals and the birds fulfilled what was commanded of them: the beasts looked for their dens, the animals their meadows, and the birds made their nests among the branches.
 
When these beings were tranquil in the places of their choosing and convenience, the gods came together again and said:
 
"Every being should be humble within his natural world, but none must live in silence for silence is ruin, abandonment and death."
 
Then, with a voice that resounded throughout the confines of space, one of the gods called to them and told them:
 
"Now, according to your species, you should say our names so that you know who created you and who sustains you. Speak to us and we will respond by helping you."
 
Thus it was done.
 
But those beings didn't speak; without knowing what to do they remained astonished. They seemed mute, as if in their throats the intelligent voices had died. They only knew how to cry out, as appropriate to the class to which they belonged. Upon seeing this, the gods, sorrowful, among themselves said:
 
"This is not good; it must be remedied before it is possible to do another thing."
 
Immediately after hearing counsel among themselves, they again directed their attention to the beasts, the animals and the birds in this manner:
 
"Because of not having known how to speak according to that which was mandated, you will have distinct ways of living and diverse food. You will not live now in a placid congregation; each one will flee from his kind, fearful of his hatred and of hunger, and will search for a place that hides his stupidity and his fear. Thus it shall be done. Know more: that for not having spoken nor of being aware of who we are, nor having given signs of understanding, your flesh will be broken up and eaten. Among yourselves you will crush each other and eat each other without disgust. This and no other will be your destiny, because in this way it is our wish that justice be done."
 
Upon hearing this, those irrational ones felt scorned and they wanted to recover the favors that they had had. With a ridiculous effort they tried in some way to speak.
 
In this attempt, also, they were clumsy - only cries came out of their throats and of their snouts. Not even were they able to understand each other; even less could they get out of the predicament in which they found themselves before the gods. Then the latter abandoned them to their fate, among the evil and filth where they were groveling. There they remained resigned, putting up with the sentence that was dictated to them. Soon they would be pursued and sacrificed and their flesh broken, cooked and devoured by the peoples of better understanding who were going to be born.
 
 

Chapter 2

 
The gods ideated new beings capable of speaking, and of harvesting, at the opportune moment, the food that had been sown and grown in the earth. For that reason, they said to each other:
 
"What must we do so that the new creatures who appear will know how to call us by our names, and understand - for it is proper that they venerate us as their creators and their gods? We remember that the first beings we made did not know how to admire our beauty, and not even did they realize our splendor. Let us see if, finally, we can create beings who are more obedient to our purpose."
 
After saying such words, they began to mold, with damp clay, the flesh of the new being which they were imagining. They formed him with care. Little by little they made him, without neglecting any detail. When he was complete they realized that this creature, unfortunately, would be of little value because he was just a lump of black clay, with a straight and stiff neck; a toothless mouth, wide and distorted; and blind eyes, faded and empty, placed without art or grace at different heights and at each side of the face, near the temples. Beside all this, they saw that this mannequin could not remain standing, because it crumbled and decomposed when doused by water.
 
Nevertheless, the new being had the gift of speech. The words that it uttered sounded harmonious as never any music had sounded. and vibrated beneath the heavens. The mannequin spoke, but was not aware of what it said, so that it has heedless of the meaning of its words. Upon seeing the new creatures thus made, the gods said:
 
"You will live in spite of everything, while better beings are being created; you will live until those who will replace you arrive. During this wait you will struggle in order to reproduce yourselves and to improve your kind."
 
And so it happened. The gods contemplated with sadness those fragile beings, which drew away, and said:
 
"What can we do to form other beings which are truly superior; which can hear, speak, understand what they say, and venerate us, knowing what we are and will be in time?"
 
They (the gods) remained in silent meditation while tremendous manifestations were developing during the dark night. Then the light from a lightning flash illumined an awareness of the new creation.
 
The new beings were made of wood so that they could walk upright and firmly upon the surface of the earth.
 
The created statues seemed like real people; they gathered together and copulated in groups, and, after a time, they produced children. But they appeared to be heartless in their relationships, being devoid of feelings. They could not understand that they were beings, which came to earth by the will of the gods. They walked through the jungles and through open trails on the slopes of the mountains; they skirted the beds of the rivers and climbed up to the highest treetops. They were becoming like abandoned beings, aimless, without any guiding light or purpose. They were always on the verge of falling, and when they fell, they could not get up again. They perished in the mud. In their dullness, they could not guess their origin, or the place where they were, or the route that they were following. They wandered about like useless robots. They were living dead - zombies. And because after many journeys, they never understood who the gods were, they fell into disgrace. They spoke, they had knowledge of what they were saying, but there was neither expression nor feeling in their words. Besides, as they had neither heart nor sense of justice, nor agile legs, nor strong hands, nor useful digestive tracts, they ended up extremely handicapped. In their dullness, they did not comprehend either the presence of the gods and fathers or the lords of everything that breathes and matures. They lived during many generations, deceived by the rigidity and egoism of their spirits. It was their fate not to be better than any one of the punished beings that existed before them. When they would talk, it was noticed that there was neither reason nor order in their words. Their swarthy faces, like the color of earth, remained immobile and stiff. Because of their slowness, they seemed stupid. For all of these reasons, they were condemned to die. When they least expected it, a rain of ash came among them that wiped out their existence. The ash fell on their bodies, violently and constantly as if it were thrown with fury by a strong hand and from above. Then the gods arranged for the land to become filled with water; and that this should run through all parts, flooding the abysses and cliffs - obscuring them - and rising above the rocks and hills, above the tallest mountain peaks - grazing the fringes of the clouds. Thus it happened. This flood, that lasted many moons, destroyed everything. Still, the gods continued to make new beings using new natural substances. From tzite man was made; from espadaña, woman; but these figures did not please their creators. For this reason the bird Xecotcovah was introduced, which dug his claws in the earth, and with his beak, took out the eyeballs of these beings. Then came the great cat Cotzbalam, which ravaged their bodies, ripping their veins and chewing up their bones into splinters. Immediately there came other wild beasts, no less cruel, that raged in their spoils.
 
It happened that, at the root of all this, the land became darkened with great obscurity, and in a fearsome manner, as if a thick blanket descended upon all of creation. It was as if the earth was populated with shadows. In the midst of this desolation, beheld by the survivors who debated among themselves morbidly and almost without hope of salvation, small beings appeared whose souls had been invisible until then. Irritated and vociferous, these beings began to speak in terrible high voices. To those survivors who still had hope, they said:
 
"You should hear us because all of what has happened is just retribution. You believed that we were empty things. This was our deceit. You made us suffer, but now we have become tired of so much iniquity. Now you will suffer tremendous punishments. From today forth your flesh will be food."
 
The millstones said: "You exhausted us; day after day, from dawn to dusk, you were scratching and grinding us. Always you were grinding and that grinding hardened and blackened our bellies. Continually was heard the holi-holi and the hugui-hugui that the mass of mashed corn made beneath our arms and on our chests and our shoulders. Our feet became soaked with the humid and smelly residues. Such was your disdain and such was our suffering. But how great was our deception! Now we see, after all this rime, that you do not deserve anything. Now you will lose our strength; this will be our vengeance; and this your ruin."
 
And then the dogs said: "How many times, by your fault, did we not taste a bite of food, nor lick a bone, nor did we drink a sip of water, nor did we succeed in finding a corner of fresh earth on which to sleep; and racked with hunger and thirst, weakened with tongue hanging out, we remained like useless junk in the garbage dump of the hut. From afar, we looked at you with eyes of fear and supplication. Crouched and shaking, we were living a life of suffering because of you. We maintained ourselves upright in your presence. If we approached you in order to sniff your hands, you would speak harshly to us and kick us. Our real mentors have complained of this treatment, yet still our backs have been injured. We were always treated with this cruelty and tyranny in your houses and plots of ground. But, you fools, why did you not foresee the eventual consequences of such treatment? Sooner or later the time would come when that would all be ended. Now we rise up against you - you are ineffective and powerless. It is a shame that we will cause your ruin. Now we must dismantle and kill you. We will do this without consideration or compassion. It will be useless to defend yourselves. Know that you will not even have time to lament. Immediately, to your misfortune, you will experience the strength that we cave accumulated in our teeth and paws."
 
The waves (of water) said: "You made us suffer by burning and smoking our mouths, our ears, our bellies and our necks. You always had us on the fire and on the red-hot coals. With so much heat, our flesh chaffed. In order for you to rest, you left us on top of the hot ashes or in the midst of the embers. Difficult and interminable was our task. No one had compassion or pity for us, in spite of all we did, singing at night from the dark corners of the kitchens or next to the stoves on the patios. No one offered us peace or calm, or gave us rest or consolation. But our martyrdom has ended. Now we shall eat you; but, before this, we will torture you by putting your bodies upon a grill over a bonfire. We will be deaf to your cries."
 
The jugs said: "You caused us much constant pain. We do not wish to remember it because it will increasingly inflame and anger us. But now the moment of our retaliation has arrived. It will be difficult for you this time, because you will be battered by a hail storm, and a blizzard will come to afflict your bare backs."
 
When those pitiful humans heard so many accusations, they gathered together like ears of corn, frightened and trembling. Thus squeezed together, next to each other, they endeavored to escape, as if they were fleeing from some smelly place. They panicked, stumbling over one another. They climbed up on the roofs of the houses, but the frames and beams collapsed under them, crashing down around them; they tried to climb up the trees, but the branches broke; they entered the caves, but the walls crumbled upon them. And still, those who did not die beneath the huts, or break their bones falling from the trees, or bleeding and battered in the caves, blind with fear and rage, they ended by tearing each other to pieces. The few who did not suffer the remorse of their foolishness were transformed into monkeys. These went away and were lost in the mountain, filling it with the uproar that issued from their snouts. That is why monkeys are the only animals that are similar to, and evoke the form of, the primitive human beings of the old Quiché land.
 
 

Chapter 3

 
Then the gods gathered together again to devote themselves to the creation of a new race of people, which would be made of flesh, bone and intelligence. They had to do this quickly, because it was imperative that it be all completed before the dawn of the new day. Accordingly, when they began to notice vague and tenuous lights on the horizon, they said:
 
"This is the propitious time to bless the food of the beings who soon will populate these regions."
 
And thus was it done. They blessed the food that was spread out upon the moist fertile ground of these places. Afterwards, they offered invocations, which resonated throughout, the creation like a great burst of lavender essence that filled the air with fragrant aromas. There was no visible being who did not receive its influence. This essence was the source of that marvelous substance that was to become man's flesh. As this was happening, nothing prevented the sun, moon and stars from appearing in the sky. From hidden places, as named in the chronicles, special creatures - cat, fox, parrot magpie and crow - came out auspiciously to announce that the yellow, maroon and white ears of corn had grown to maturity. Through these same animals, water was discovered that would be placed in the veins of the flesh of the new beings. But the gods first put the water in the grains of those ears of corn. When all which has been said had been revealed, the ears of corn were threshed and the loose grains, dissolved in the water which came down as a gentle rain, the gods concocted the elixir needed for the creation and prolongation of the life of the said beings. Then with the yellow dough and the white dough they formed and molded the flesh of the trunk, arms and legs. They reinforced the structures with reeds in order to give them strength. Only four people of reason were first created in this manner. Then the bodies were completed with all of the members and appendages placed and shaped in appropriate proportion and juxtaposition so that they were capable of proper movement. All this was required of them so that they could think, speak, see, feel, walk and reach out to all that existed and was unfolding around them. Soon they demonstrated the intelligence with which they were endowed, as a natural out flowing of their spirits. And they both perceived and understood the reality that surrounded them. They knew also all that was beneath the sky, what stood erect upon the land, what active forces vibrated within the hidden space, and actualized through the wind. Although the surface of the earth was still immersed in shadows, the new beings had the power to see what had not yet been born or revealed. They showed signs that they possessed wisdom which, merely through willing, they could communicate to the shoots of the plants, to the trunks of the trees, to the cores of the rocks, and to the secret bonfire enclosed within the cavities of the mountains. These four beings were named Balam Quitzé, Balam Acab, Mahucutah and Equí Balam.
 
When the gods witnessed the birth of these beings, they called out to the first one and said to him:
 
"Speak and tell us on behalf of yourself and for the rest who accompany you: What ideas do you have about the feelings which move you? Is your manner of walking good and graceful? Do you exercise your glances with refinement? Is the language that you use accurate and clear? Do you remember to use this language properly on all occasions? Do you understand that here one speaks and one makes suggestions? If all that you do is perfect, will it be easy for you to see the nature of the life force within things that have been ripened and fructified? If this is so, you should go to gather them and possess them. Make your brothers proceed in the same way as you. If it is not so, remain quiet in your place; from there do not move and try to have your brothers follow your example. Everyone should take stock of and assess his own powers."
 
Upon hearing these words, the new beings saw that their feelings and manners were perfect and they wanted to show their gratitude. To show it, Balam Quitzé spoke, on behalf of the others, in this manner:
 
"You have given us existence; because of it we know what we know and we are what we are; because of it we speak and walk and know what is inside of us and what is outside of us. In this way we can understand that which is large and that which is small, and even that which does not exist and is not revealed before our eyes. Thus we perceive now where the four corners of the world rest and are supported, which mark the limits of what surrounds us above and below."
 
It must be pointed out, though, that the gods were not pleased with the self-confidence and self-satisfaction with their knowledge and abilities, which the new beings expressed with such frankness. For this reason, the gods conversed among themselves:
 
"They understand," they said, "what is large and what is small and they know the cause of this difference. Let us think about the consequences that this can have on the practice of living. The energy put forth as a result of this lucidity must be noxious. What shall we do to remedy the obvious danger inferred in such activity? Let us meditate on it. Let us see to it that the new beings know only one part of the land that surrounds them. Only that which exists shall be revealed to them. They will not know everything, because they will not know how to understand their senses or use them to good advantage. They will deceive each other as to the secret of making order out of chaos. It will be necessary to limit their faculties. Thus their pride will be diminished. In this way the misconducts they commit will be of less import. If we abandon them to their own volition, and they have children, these, without a doubt, will perceive more than their progenitors, and there will come a time in which they will understand as much as their gods and creators. That is why it is necessary to reform their desires and dreams, so that they will not be bewildered or disappear when the clarity of the day that is now opening up on the horizon comes. If this is not done, they will pretend, in their deviousness and craziness, to be as much or more than us. We are just in time to avoid this danger, which could be fatal to the fertile order of creation."
 
So that these people would not be alone, the gods created others of the female sex. They formed them as will now be told. They made the males sleep and while they slept, they created the females - which they placed nude and quiet as if they were polished wooden mannequins, next to the males. When these awakened, they were pleased with what they saw, because, in fact, the females were beautiful. Upon seeing them so svelte, of skin so shiny and smooth, and having such a pleasant aroma, they were filled with joy and pleasure, and they (the males) took them (the females) for companions. Then, to distinguish them, they were given appropriate names which were very enchanting. Each name evoked the image of rain according to the seasons. Once these couples saw each other with pleasure and knew each other in the intimacy of their bodies, they engendered new beings with which the earth began to be populated. Many of these beings that were born were, in time, great and skilled in special and secret arts, not revealed ever to the more ordinary people. For that reason the gods, since the shadows, chose them to be Worshipers and Sacrificers, who belong to a dignified caste, in which not everyone is eligible or suitable to belong. The first people engendered possessed the same beauty as their mothers and the same power as their fathers, and knew how to divine the mystery of their origin.
 
In this way, Balam Quitzé and the other Patriarchs became the forbearers of the people that then lived and developed during the migrations, and formed the seat of the tribes of the Quiché. The names that are spoken in order to know the ancestry of those born later have been immortalized. These primitive beings propagated themselves throughout the land that is in the region of the East (or original continent).*
 
* This could allude to the fabled antediluvian continent of Atlantis, where the Toltec race has been said to originate.
 
 

Chapter 4

 
For a time they lived in quietude, but then they decided, for reasons that are hidden, to depart toward strange destinations that are designated of the caves and of the cliffs. Thus they left the place where, until then, they had been prisoners. In this migration they had to climb a series of mountains. Upon crossing these peaks, they suffered, with inexpressible pain, the cold of those places, because the fire that they had brought with them was extinguished by the turbulence resulting from the electrical storms that raged above them. In their hands, the hot coals needed for their warmth and for cooking became ash and smoke. This was their fate and their trial. They had to pause (in their journey). They were on the verge of returning to the place they had left - so cruel was the martyrdom they were suffering beneath the blizzards from above. Upon seeing this, Balam Quitzé said in desperation:
 
"Tojil, give us the fire again that you bequeathed to us; give it to us, because my people are suffering from the cold."*
 
* Tojil was evidently the name that the Patriarchs, at this time, gave to their god.
 
Tojil, for the first time during the migration, spoke:
 
"I say to you that you should not grieve or despair, because, in time, you and your people will have the fire you have lost. Meanwhile, strengthen your resolve and make your people do the same. The privations that you are suffering will not last much longer."
 
Balam Quitzé transmitted these words to his people. Then the people, filled with hope, united (behind him). In order to warm themselves, they rubbed up against each other; they danced unceasingly; and they beat their chests with their hands. They blew their warm breath on their numbed faces. Upon noticing such painful resignation, Tojil, in the darkness that concealed him, struck the leather of his sandal with a rock, and from the rock, instantly came forth a spark, then a glitter, and immediately a flame, and the new fire glowed splendidly. Upon seeing it shine, he took it in his hands and gave it to Balam Quitzé, so that it could be shared with the people. These, who were already dying from the cold, received the fire with joy. With it they warmed themselves; they livened up and felt relief, and with determination, resolved to continue their travels.
 
But, at that time, the tribes that had lagged behind the vanguard arrived. With great compulsion, they cried out for the fire that they had lost. It was pitiful to see and hear them. These laggards were crippled and stiffened due to the cold to which they had been exposed, and which penetrated to their bones. The flesh of their bodies split and cracked, and water and pus trickled from the cracks. Their feet were afflicted with sores that opened up on the rocks on which they walked. They could not even speak, because their clattering teeth caused them to bite their own tongues, which were bleeding and tearing into pieces. Before the vanguard, which had regained the fire, they said:
 
"Pity us; do not be ashamed of us; because with these words and hands we pray to you to give us some of the fire which you have received. If you do not give it to us, we shall die. We no longer can endure the cold that overwhelms our flesh!"
 
Balam Quitzé heard these words of the laggard people, but hardly understood them, and beckoned them to approach. When he saw them up close in their submissiveness, he cried out to them in this manner:
 
"Tell me: what language do you speak? From where have you gotten these strange sounds that come out of your mouths? Have you forgotten the idiom that everyone was using in the land of Tulán? What have you done with the words that we used to know, and are familiar with, and which are pleasant to our ears? Into what confusion have you fallen? Why do you look at us thusly with embarrassment and confusion, without showing any signs of understanding or sensibility? You seem mute, notwithstanding the prattle issuing from your mouths."
 
Balam Quitzé spoke angrily and in a mean-spirited manner, with the intention of mistreating these people. If he had had his way, he would have finished with them. They drew back, humiliated, when suddenly there appeared an envoy sent by Tojil, who spoke thusly:
 
"You must all know, both our own people and the foreigners, that Tojil is our god. To those who already have fire, I say to them: do not share it until the laggard tribes say what they will do with it. They will be justly punished for their negligence, and because, without reason, they changed their language."
 
The envoy who thus spoke was tall and dark and had shiny wings on his back, like a bat. With voices which everyone heard, and could predict, the laggard people again demanded the fire, because they truly could no longer survive in the situation in which they found themselves. Naked, they had their hands under their armpits and groaned like wet rats. To the Patriarchs they again said:
 
"Don't you have compassion for us in our humiliation? Did we not used to gather together before under the same roof, near the same tree, while we were drinking, from identical mugs, our communal drink? Without discord or rancor did we not light, enliven and enjoy the fire that we all inherited from our ancestors? If we are to suffer so much, why did we leave Tulán when there we had peace and happiness and peaceful dreams under the stars that were reflected in the water of the lakes?"
 
The answer given to them was:
 
"Now you have heard - what will you give us in exchange for the fire that you lost and that we now have?"
 
One of the closest ones replied:
 
"We will give the precious metals that we brought from our ancient homes from up over there and far away."
 
"We do not want them."
 
"Then, what is that you want?"
 
"Wait: soon you will know what we ask for in exchange for the fire."
 
The Patriarchs withdrew, and in an appropriate and hidden place, they spoke with the shadow of Tojil (whose corporeal figure was still invisible to them) and said to him:
 
"Tojil, hear us and answer us: what would be a good thing to ask the laggard tribes for in exchange for the fire that they want so desperately?"
 
Tojil answered:
 
"When the kettledrums sound will they want to express to us adoration and offer us the tribute of their lives, without fear or repugnance? If they accept these conditions, tell them not to delay in showing their consent."
 
The Patriarchs transmitted this answer from Tojil. Upon hearing these conditions, the laggard people, without restraint, without giving any consideration to the extent of the requirement, happily shouted:
 
"We accept Tojil as our god and will adore according to the mandate and we will submit ourselves to the demands of his devotees!"
 
As soon as they had said this they received the fire, which the tribes of Balam Quitzé had already multiplied. With the fire they received they recovered; they returned to tranquility, to life, to reason, and to happiness. They were satisfied as if they had never suffered at all. In their contentment they began to sing songs, which, filled with sweetness, came out of their mouths. Pleasure erases the memory of pain. Then they burned resinous wood and drank the juice of acid fruits. Tojil, upon seeing so much submission, no longer demanded the sacrifice he had asked for. Scarcely had these tribes gotten the fire, another tribe, with an aggressive and warlike reputation, dared to take it forcibly and surreptitiously from the same hands of the people who already had it. This tribe that was so daring lived under the command of the god Chamalhán. This god had the form of a vampire and he displayed sharp-pointed claws, curved like the talons of an eagle, rat-shaped ears and long, white, sharp teeth. It was known that this tribe did not know how to ask for or beg for anything: neither for food, nor bed, nor the shade of the trees. They considered everything as being their own - snatching it away violently without being deterred by any resistance, even on pain of death, from those who opposed them. This tribe, nevertheless, had its virtue. With pleasure and submissiveness, it knew how to hand over, for the sacrifice (to its god), the slaves who were fattened and locked as bait in reed cages. The Sacrificers received them with gusto; they adored them and then, in a ceremony of show and ostentation, they removed their (the slaves) entrails. This tribe brought with them, from previous places, among other good things, the custom of fasting. They fasted according to their rite, the symbol of which was guarded as a secret. On the days assigned on their calendar, they only ate crumbs of bread and grains of corn. They continued this ritual, without taking in anything else during a time that was measured with precision. This custom, which originated in ancient times, had never been broken. They delighted in the solitude in which they lived. This tribe was capable of contemplating both the starry night and the morning sunrise; it was comforted by trials of hardship. Under its sign it leaned to have faith in the destiny that was reserved for it. Thanks to this faith it could, at last, hear the words of Tojil when he said to the humble and related tribes:
 
"Now hear what I say to you. Because of the integrity with which you have undergone trials, I am changing the law that you should obey. As a sacrificial offering, you will bleed only the ears and elbows; do this in good spirits and smiling faces; show valor before me because cowardliness will serve you badly.
 
Thus it was with pleasure that this unruly tribe submitted. The faith it carried in its heart saved it. Since then Tojil scattered the benefits of his power and influence among all of the tribes. In particular, the boon of ineffable joy grew in the spirit of everyone.
 
 

Chapter 5

 
Our people, with the aid of the aforementioned gods, finally abandoned the ravines and narrow passes of the mountains (where they had suffered so much hardship) and descended to lower places where one was able to view the sea - of which they had only heard of in vague and mysterious ways. While still advancing toward the south, they were confronted with swamps and inlets filled with dangers and difficulties. For this reason, the Patriarchs said, in anguish:
 
"Tojil, do not abandon us; give us your word; show us the path that you, more than anyone else, knows, and through which we will arrive at the land that you secretly promised us. Do not leave us fallen."
 
When the Patriarchs decided it to be necessary, they announced to the people the second stop they should make. They found themselves in a strange and rocky land that was too inhospitable for them to camp in for long, because it was laced with cliffs, fissures and crevices out of which came obnoxious animals which filled the air with plague, fear and noise. The water they found was dark and murky; and the winds that blew, harsh. The branches of the trees overhung the neglected trails and canyons - places through which rivers and torrents formerly ran. For this reason, without waiting for further guidance, they abandoned these useless places as a resting place for the people. Thus they continued walking through lands that had already been crossed by other travelers. They advanced through sinuous trails, bordered abundantly with weeds. The hikers crossed the flat terrain of extensive marshes infested with swarms of poisonous insects that relentlessly attacked them. They did not stop until the grandfathers ordered the third halt. They were now in the land of Chi Pixab, where even the hills did not protect the people from the wild beasts that populated the area. They fought desperately against them. Unceasingly, men were dying form the claws of the tigers that stalked them, or they perished in the teeth of the large reptiles that slithered away by the side of the water holes and beneath the puddles. They fought with painful determination with no time to rest or to find a more secure refuge. In light of this, the grandfathers again consulted Tojil and, as a result of his advice, broke camp to continue the pilgrimage to the places that will be mentioned further on. The next stop was made at the edge of an earthy prairie. Then Tojil said to the Patriarchs:
 
"It is not good that you stop here either. Soon these places will become parched by the winds that come down from the distant mountains, which cover the southern horizon. Walk further on, until you receive a sign. Notice the hour of the dawn that approaches. At this time you will know how to better make out the appropriate place, and that is indicated on the calendar of which you do not yet know."
 
The Patriarchs, agreeing with this advice, then said:
 
"It is true; let us look for other sites more adequate for our security and comfort. Let us advance to the edge of the horizon, where the shade of yonder mountain stands out; let us get there as soon as possible."
 
They took down their huts, loaded the statues of their gods and continued walking. The Patriarchs went on ahead, keeping a watchful eye on their destination. In everyone was born the premonition that the end of his or her journey was finally approaching. The men, the women, the children and the elders were all heartened and energized, and their fatigue diminished. At the end of an indeterminate time, they arrived at the borders of the mountain that they had first seen from afar. It was tall with steep slopes, covered with thick vegetation, part thorny and part soft. From the time they first saw the mountain they called it Hacavitz. They climbed up the western slopes, crawling among the rocks and the weeds. Upon arriving at the top, the more audacious ones announced that this was wide and solid and that it offered a pleasant site for their rest.
 
The Patriarchs were more thorough; they examined with their hands and eyes the nature of that place that seemed to be the end of their migration. When everyone had ascertained that the place was appropriate for their refuge and happiness, their spirits finally were at rest. They increasingly rejoiced because they saw that the morning star was lit above the horizon, and recognized this to be a clear sign of good tidings - a lucid announcement by their god. Before his presence, as a heartfelt testimonial offering, they burnt incense. The incense was transformed into a cloud, which, in the serenity of the morning, ascended up on high - further than their eyes could see. According to the dictates of their faith, each Patriarch burnt a different potion. While burning their incense, they cried and sang with joy and pleasure. Among the people a clarity filtered down that never before had come upon the earth and that penetrated even unto the caves of the Levant. As soon as they were sufficiently enraptured in these contemplations, Tojil said to them:
 
"It is good that you have occupied this mountain and these slopes through which water is drained from the rain and from the secret fountains born under the rocks and pebbles. One day you will discover their source and you will understand from it the nature of life and of establishing roots. I speak on my own behalf and for the gods who accompany me. Now I say to you: as we are of you, so you are of us. From this time on, nothing can separate us. In this hour of trial, invoke whom you must. Be ever vigilant as to the feelings of the devotees and followers, because you are to know that to only the good ones will be given advice and counsel, and our help. Be careful in what you think and do, and what you accomplish through your mandate. Learn to take care of yourselves, guarding our memory; but you will not torment us with the history of your sufferings that are just and inevitable. Know that even without words we know your intentions. Know that we hear you in silence. Give us, in exchange, the little children of the birds and the beasts that inhabit these places. Give us your blood without endangering yourselves, for we do not ask you for death but for life. Whoever asks you where we are, tell them what you know from our presence, but no more. Great things you will be able to do if we see in you submission and agreement with our devotees and followers."
 
Upon hearing this, the Patriarchs said, in a pleasant tone:
 
"Now our names will be immortalized, because the gods spoke and because we are united in our cause. Out people will never be dispersed. Their destiny will be to survive any misfortune that may come in the unpredictable future. They will be assured of retaining their roots in the place we have occupied."
 
Then, as they uttered these words, they gave a name and title to the tribes that had gathered together. Thus the tribes who had prevailed to this time were known and distinguished. This done, they waited for the morning star, which had briefly been seen before, to reappear. In the meantime, in the steepest part of the mountain Hacavitz, the Patriarchs discovered a place filled with fish and reptile scales and the teeth and claws of dead animals that had been sacrificed in the past. With these remains, they prepared proper essences that would be effective in warding off evil influences and to allow good influences to take root. They knew that the teeth of a hare would prevent discord, and that the bones of the hicatee turtle would encourage useful abilities. After hurrying to complete this task, the Patriarchs were relieved and calm in spirit. Then in their hearts they said:
 
"Let us hope that here we will finally see the sunrise. Do we not deserve this reward? Did we not visualize this site in our minds? If it is so, nothing should separate us now, in the face of this clearly propitious omen. Joy rises in the horizon. In the solitude of the shadows that envelope us, we will see the heavens open and we will be strengthened."
 
Upon uttering these words, the dawn of the new day that they anticipated so eagerly in their imagination appeared in its entire splendor.
 
The Patriarchs hid themselves, fearful that the more vulgar people, excited because of the light, would scorn them. The sun rose in the sky and its light spread throughout the land. Every one began to tremble, fearing for their lives. But the sun's heat was not intense enough to burn the flesh and embrittle the bones. One had to wait for the dog days of summer to heat up the air and to dry up the leaves and shoots of the plants so that the people could walk bravely on top of the ground, and not get muddy.
 
When this happened, the animals, both large and small, reappeared, expressing the various sweet and untamed inclinations of their natures. From the top of the mountain, as it is said, the people looked at the width of the prairie that opened up to their view, the path of the rivers, the dark mass o the forests, an in the far distance, the purplish reverberation of the sea which blended in with the immobile line of the sky. From the top of the cliffs broke forth the roar of the jaguars and tigers, the snort of the javelinas, and the meow of the wild cats. From the water holes and creeks could be heard the croaking of the frogs and toads with their protruding black and greenish eyes. Through the swamps could be seen the brown spotted lizards with their mouths open; and among the thistles, snakes slithered through the mire. The parrots, at that moment, uttered their most strident and prolonged cries. When the people heard these sounds, they were filled with joy. The door of life had opened up for them - the event that they had awaited from time immemorial.
 
And so it was that the tribes of which we speak established themselves in these plots of land. They soon built roads and trails that ran between the jungle and the weeds, climbing, from time to time, along the ridges. In this manner, the said tribes communicated among themselves. They built mounds of rock and mud to serve as observation points from which sentries could see afar and warn of any approaching dangers. In fact, the most skilled and experienced men climbed up these watchtowers to see and listen. They remained in position for hours on end, scrutinizing the horizon or paying attention to the slightest noise in the surrounding fields. At the slightest sign of anything unusual, they sounded warnings through the blowing of conch shells and pipes. These warning sounds reverberated loudly through the populated areas, causing fright and agony among the people who clenched their fists and dug in their heels with tension. To better maintain their privacy, the Patriarchs were living hidden in the mountain, under straw roofs or in open caves on the slopes of the mountain, on the side where the sun sets.
 
Only those people who understood the mystery of the life of those Patriarchs had access to these hidden places. Even these initiated ones barely knew the way to the trails and roads that led to the places where the chiefs were hiding.
 
It should be known that the Patriarchs, at night, especially a night that was dark and filled with silence and mystery, would leave their hiding places and would start to cry out, howl and groan like wild beasts anxious for blood and destruction. Upon hearing these sounds, the elders among the people living near the mountain of Hacavitz, frightened, assembled into a group and said:
 
"Those that cry out thus want to scare us and put fear in us. They must have some sly intentions in doing this. Let us be on alert. Undoubtedly, they wish to provoke us with their cries. Do they dare to think that we will abandon this land they now have in their power to take for their own? Is it possible that such a thing could happen among us? These intruders overwhelm us with their threats. It would seem that they want us to flee from the places that have belonged to us from days of old. We have always lived here; it is only proper that we continue living where it pleases us and where we want to die. Only here can we flourish; in leaving these parts, we would never again be fulfilled and our pain would be eternal. Who has the right to deprive us of what is rightfully ours? Perhaps these newcomers aspire to take control of the supplies our men carry on these paths, from town to town, and from village to village. We will, nevertheless, know the truth and with the truth we will know the intentions of the intruders, and thus we will be able to act accordingly."
 
The tribes that thus conferred, gathered their food and prepared it according to the arts that they had learned from their elders. Thus they ate the food next to the hearths of their homes, next to their women, their children and the grandparents of their children. Their way of life was patriarchal. They nourished themselves with bee honey, venison and turtle fat. They drank the water that came of the wells that from years before had passed from generation to generation undiscovered. They seemed happy in their quietude and sobriety. Until then no one had disturbed that repose. After eating, they took a nap next to the irrigation ditches that crossed the patios of their estates. Above their heads, the swallows in spring and the sparrows in winter flew with graceful enthusiasm. Something, nevertheless, was not right in their lives, that thus they saw themselves threatened. In them, egotism and hatred predominated. This was the sin rooted in their nature. Meanwhile, the Patriarchs said:
 
"Tojil, hear us and look at us. We give you this. This is the blood of the beasts that belong to us; this that of our ears; this is that of our elbows; this is that of our feet. Receive it with kindness; look at it with sympathetic and understanding eyes. For the good of everyone accept it in amends for our neglect and our faults. Guard our life and do not take away our strength nor diminish our will."
 
Then they added:
 
"Let us be at peace with ourselves; let us not ignite disputes and disagreements. Let us work with peace and quiet in our hearts. If we do not work in such a way, who will wash the bodies of our dead ones? Perhaps we will have to bury them, as in the days of war, dirty and impure, on the fringes of the cliffs or in the loneliness of the jungle, in order to free them from the teeth of filthy animals. Let us hope that this does not happen! Let us hope that if it does, we will not have to witness it with our own eyes!"
 
The blood they say was deposited on the rock of sacrifice. They did this when Tojil let his rulings be heard:
 
"Weep and you will preserve yourselves. Weep and you shall not perish. Tears are good for the body and spirit. Remember that from Tulán we parted; consider that even the footprints that we left on the open roads between mountains and thickets, and steep and seemingly inaccessible places, have not been erased. Even today our march to the sea is remembered. Next to the coastal rocks the waves shone and broke when we crossed places that were indicated in our itinerary."
 
After hearing these words, the Patriarchs began, with zeal, to kidnap, during the night, the dispersed and strange people that were found in nearby places. They took them and punished them and caused them grief by twisting their feet and hands between forked sticks. When the Patriarchs saw that these wretches were confused and ready to faint, they let them go in the middle of the forest. Thus stumbling along as well as they could, the unhappy ones looked for their familiar roads and returned to their homes. They arrived there filled with panic, not knowing what to think or what to say. They could hardly imagine what had happened to them. It was as if they had come out of a dream, or a bewitchment. The story of their frightful ordeal was spread like dust in the wind during summer dog days.
 
Later, the same Patriarchs wanted to make things even worse, with the worst cruelty. Their spirits turned sour and dark. The kidnapping was no longer enough for them. They decided, then, to sacrifice the people which they surprised and seized near the mountain of Hacavitz. They took them by force and killed and mutilated them, putting the dead bodies before the presence of the gods. They presented them as an offering. But the blood of the victims spread through the paths and the decapitated heads, and the pulled apart limbs appeared on the rocks. The people of the prairie tribes, with sour words and wrathful spirits, said:
 
"It is the tigers of the high places that attack us. They should be hungry and thirsty. They hardly carry an evil spell in their spirits. The arid mountain expels them and thus they arrive here in this pleasant, populated region. They should approach anxiously, desirous of satisfying their appetites and getting rid of their worries. Let us look for them and kill them."
 
Others commented:
 
"Might not this be the work of the gods who have camped on the mountain top that they call Hacavitz? Won't their devotees look upon our flesh as food? Let us try to discover the truth and do whatever is possible to remedy this evil. Let us first find out their hiding places and refuges, and afterwards, let us find out who are the followers and devotees of such gods. To learn this, let us follow the foot tracks and the trickle of blood that flows from the victims. Let us also note the route that the vultures in the sky follow when they watch and smell the carcasses abandoned on the mountain."
 
After giving due consideration to these comments, the people of the pursued tribes agreed to defend themselves against these threats.
 
They, in fact, set about to follow the above-mentioned tracks which were discovered in the humid earth of the paths and trails. They soon saw, however, that the tracks disappeared among the thistles of the mountains. Thus they failed in their attempt to discover the refuge of their enemies. Tired, racked with pain and filled with misgivings, they abandoned the task that they had undertaken. Discouraged, but not beaten, they returned to their houses. In their imagination, they plotted a new way of proceeding with their searches. Artfully and cunningly the gods began to scrutinize the mountain for the most inaccessible and difficult places. At sunset, they had taken shelter in the natural caves or in the holes that people of olden times had made in the rocks. They also camouflaged themselves beneath the dense shade of the thistles. From their hiding places, they incited their followers and devotees so that they would continue in their undertaking of destruction, lying in wait and killing the people of the local tribes. It was in this way that the desolation increased among the peaceful peoples of the prairie.
 
 

Chapter 6

 
Know also that the gods appeared in the form of boys when they wished to dictate their orders and decrees. It was a pleasure to see them shine with such splendid mature grace. If they wished to relax, they came out of their hiding places with caution, and went to bathe themselves at the shore of a wide and clear river, near which were meadows covered with flowers and herbs. On one recess were seen flagstone slabs rounded and smoothed by water erosion from the frequent rains and river currents. That is why the river was called Tojil. The people who were acquainted with it would say:
 
"This is the Tojil river."
 
Or they would say:
 
"This is the bath of Tojil."
 
When, by chance, the gods were observed, they would immediately disappear without leaving any tracks. No evidence of their footprints remained on the loose soil. With art that only they knew, they would lose themselves in the most inaccessible part of the forest. No one ever succeeded in discovering their whereabouts. They vanished as if the earth had swallowed them, or imprisoned them in its depths. Nor were they seen even as ghosts. Nevertheless, the people soon knew that the Patriarchs were accomplices of the newly revealed gods and were kept concealed by them. What they knew, they divulged to widely separated individuals among themselves. Then the tribes that had suffered so much from the abuses of these beings (the gods and their accomplices), decided to unite and mount a vigorous defensive action.
 
As they intended, so they acted. They gathered in council and agreed to destroy the abusive gods and those who, in the name of these, caused so much desolation. With this purpose in mind, they decided to rise up in mass and fall upon these chiefs, snatching their instruments of power from them and occupying the places where, falsely and wrongly, they had taken root. Among the agitated tribes, the people spoke thusly:
 
"We have to be finished with these Quiché people of Cavec. Not one of these foreigners should remain free or alive inside our region. They should be treated like an abscess; let us cut away this infected and spoiled meat and discard it, so that this dark and evil abomination is extinguished and its influence comes to an end."
 
"If they have to wound and kill us, so be it; but, before this happens, let us be done with the intruders and with those who, in a hypocritical way, incite them against us. If Tojil is so great and strong as the voices of the ones who have witnessed him say he is, we want to see him with our own eyes; we want to make sure of the reality of his strength, and if it is invincible. If we succeed in knowing this, then we will adore him as if destiny had imposed it on us. We will make no resistance."
 
Now in agreement with these words, they told those who were taking fish from the river where, according to custom, Tojil and the other gods were bathing:
 
"Come, listen and understand: if those who bathe in that river are mortal gods, let us go to them, let us fall upon them and decimate them down to their bones. Let us do more; let us cause their accomplices - or should we say, their devotees and priests - to perish with them."
 
Afterwards, in the heat of their resolve, they added:
 
"To capture them we shall do the following: we will arrange to go to the said river at the proper hour, two damsels - the healthiest and most astute among those born and raised in the region. In that place they will prattle like scatterbrained girls about their duties and intimacies. They will speak cleverly so as not to disclose their intentions and our purpose. They must be cautious. They will not appear to look about or desire anything in a careless manner. With shifty caution they will begin to wash our clothes at the river's edge. If the boys approach them, the girls will undress in order to better attract them. If the boys, upon seeing the girls naked, show signs of desiring them and wanting to come near to them, they (the girls) will have been instructed to feel free to grant the boys pleasure. If the gods then ask the girls who they are, they will answer: 'We are daughters of lords; but our parents will not want to know more about what we will be doing here, because we will not say anything,' This said, they will ask the boys for some personal effects as a souvenir of their meeting. If the boys give these to them and also caress them, they will immediately give themselves over submissively to the boys' desires."
 
In accordance with this thinking and this scheme, they instructed the two best girls of the place to go and do what has been stated in front of the gods, when these gods appeared at the river. The damsels chosen for this task were named Ixtah and Ixpuch - and they were truly beautiful.
 
Without delay, the girls went to the river and crouched next to the rocks by the waters edge. The people of the tribes, meanwhile, hid themselves, in silence and at a distance, behind the bushes. According to what is remembered, the girls began to wash the personal articles of clothing at a bend in the river. Suddenly the damsels noticed, with a start, the presence of Tojil and the other gods. The girls realized who these were because they were seen to be beautiful and erect. Their golden flesh shone as if they had a light under their skin. Also, their eyes glowed with a strange light.
 
At first, the gods observed the girls in their duties as washwomen; but upon seeing the gods approach, the girls shook with fear and emotion. Then they took off their clothes, as they had been instructed. When, with their feminine instinct, they knew that they had been noticed, they showed off their nudity. Upon being surprised, they acted ashamed, but not so much so that, by their attitude, they would be taken as shy or evasive. Among them all, there was, at first, a long silence. But, contrary to the hopes of the damsels, neither Tojil nor the other gods showed any lust for them, nor did they caress or flatter them, nor even hint at anything of this sort. Upon approaching, the gods spoke thusly:
 
"Where did you come from? What are you looking for in this place? Did no one warn you that this river is ours by natural right, because we found it untilled and without custodians? Do not pretend to be scatterbrained. You should answer our questions. We are waiting for your answers. Speak."
 
After hearing these words, uttered with such hardness, the damsels were even more bewildered; and having been accosted with such candor, they said what they had been urged to say, and nothing more. They could not lie to these beings. A hidden force obliged them to say what they knew. Besides, it was not in their nature to lie. After listening to the girls' confession, Tojil said:
 
"It is well. Now I will bring to you the sign that your mentors desire, which will convey to them the gist of our conversation and the manner in which we negotiate."
 
The gods said no more. They left immediately and debated about what they should do. Being in agreement, they took three cotton cloaks and handed these to the Patriarchs, who were nearby, waiting expectantly. Thus Balam Quitzé drew a tiger on one of the cloaks; Balam Acab sketched an eagle on another; and Muhucatah, on the third one, drew a horsefly and a wasp.
 
The gods never appeared again; they were swallowed up in the darkness of the jungle. In their place, the Patriarchs came near and spoke with the damsels.
 
Balam Quitzé, after greeting them in the name of the gods, spoke in this manner:
 
"Here are the signs that your masters wished you to bring back; these are the tokens that Tojil and the other gods promised you. To the lords who sent you to this place, you will say: 'This they gave us; with these cloaks you should cover yourselves and show off. Here it is. This is all. Expect no further words from us.' "
 
The Patriarchs also disappeared immediately. The damsels did not know how and where they had slipped away. They remained alone with a certain sense of anxiety. With this message and the cloaks, the damsels abandoned that place and arrived at the center of the tribal community. There, restrainedand uneasy, they looked for the elders who had sent them, and before these declared:
 
"Here we are."
 
"Have you seen Tojil and the other gods, as well as their devotees?" they were asked.
 
"Yes, we have seen them, and have spoken with them."
 
"Then, what sign do you bring us as a token which will verify the truth of what you say?"
 
"This is the token," they answered.
 
And upon saying this they turned over to the elders and other tribal members the cloaks that they had received from the hands of the Patriarchs. Everyone drew near to look at them with curiosity and astonishment - to look at those fabrics and the strange figures that had been drawn upon them - a sight never before seen by these people. Immediately, the tribal leaders expressed their wish to place these cloaks around themselves in order to appear important.
 
Upon hearing these pretensions, the girls said:
 
"It is good what you want to do. Tojil ordered that the tribal leaders should use these tokens. They are in favor of this."
 
The elders did not wait any longer and covered their shoulders with the cloaks. Nothing happened with the first two men - who had the cloaks with the drawings of the tiger and the eagle; but something unusual occurred with the third one - who had the cloak with the drawings of the insects. He hadn't put it on well or adjusted it to his waist, when he began to feel bites and scratches and pain all over his body. Desperate and astonished, he threw off that cloak and said, among anguished shouts:
 
"What kind of fabric is this? What material have you brought me? What is this made of? What kind of scheme is this? What is it that moves, is agitated and grows beneath its drawing? Why does this pop up, come to life and become unloosened from the fabric?"
 
The other elders, frightened, also took off their cloaks. The people of the tribes saw, in another sign, how powerful must be the action that they must take in order to effectively defeat these gods and their followers. They saw this sign as a warning of possible failure in this fight they were attempting. They remained sad, but not dejected. They knew that it was necessary to fight, and they were ready for it. In consideration of all this, the people gathered together again in council to discuss what they needed to do to defend themselves against the attacks and persecutions of such gods, as reflected in the strategies of their servants. At the meeting, the oldest ones said:
 
"Only with astuteness can we free ourselves from these persecutors. Let us give this some thought. First we should spy on them. We shall work without danger, because there are many of us and few of them. But we have to proceed diligently, before it is too late, lest our enemies become apprehensive and arm themselves."
 
With this in mind, the elders decided to act without delay. They gathered together the tribal warriors. While these young men were preparing themselvesfor the fight, the elders encouraged them with words and canticles. The women, far from being cowed, also incited the warriors with smiles and pleasant flattery. The whole assembly seemed like an excited swarm of bees. Everywhere they were responding to the call, solicitous and determined. Everyone knew that upon the outcome of the battle would depend the survival or ruin of the tribes to which they all belonged.
 
Meanwhile, from atop the mountain of Hacavitz the devotees of Tojil were vigilant and watched below and were on alert. Balam Quitzé and the other Patriarchs began to gather weapons. They equipped their sons and grandsons with these. They left their women in a safe and pleasant place. With great care, they instructed their young men in the use of the arms. The fight was coming. From above they observed the landscape and the enemy's movements, which were becoming increasingly excitable. They saw that the tribes below, being very agitated and bellicose, were gathering in the prairies; They saw that the people gesticulated excitedly, and that the audacious ones were damaging the ramps that led to the mountain top. They saw how the rashest ones began to climb up upon the defensive ramparts that were placed there in trench style. Those that conquered these obstacles crawled some distance along the lap of the mountain; and then with a leap, returned to their position, giving shouts of joy. The rapacious ones clapped their hands in unison.
 
Everyone seemed impatient to fight. The cries of the elders, who remained on the plains, became increasingly fierce. The women, angrily weeping, made it appear that any cowards would be dead or converted into slaves forever.
 
In the face of this prodding, the warriors accelerated their preparations to ascend more quickly through the twists and turns and slopes of the mountain. Beneath the sun their arrows, clubs, lances, shields and bucklers sparkled. Thus they began to climb. They advanced, nevertheless, with caution, crouching behind the rocks and the bushes along the paths. Thus they went, climbing along the diverse slopes, without stopping to rest. No one came out to meet them. At this point, they had made good progress. The lap of the mountain was seen to be swarming with enemies, when something unforeseen happened. It is quite difficult to explain it. Suddenly, the assailants, not knowing when or how, fell asleep. They remained as stiff as tree trunks or as beasts. They appeared to be dead, so deep was their sleep that it dominated and subdued them. Upon seeing them fall, the people of Hacavitz lowered their guard, they abandoned their parapets, and among strident shouts, descended through the folds in the mountain, their clubs held up high in the air, and their feathers ruffling in the wind. In this way they surprised the sleeping ones. They fell upon them and disarmed them, even taking off their clothes. To shame them even more, they cut off their beards and their eyebrows, and removed the blades from their axes and spears; they tied their feet like birds and they painted their faces in a ludicrous way as if they were circus clowns. Then they abandoned them to exposure to the harsh weather of the mountain. For the ultimate insult, the Patriarchs urinated on the defeated warriors. When these, after some hours, awoke and saw how ridiculous was their appearance, so great was their shame that some actually fled from one another to hide behind the bushes and tree trunks. They covered their nakedness with banana leaves. They did not know what to do or what to think. In their desperation, they said:
 
"Why did we fall in this way, defeated by a sleep that we have never before known? Who made us sleep, in such a change manner, while we were advancing so attentively toward the enemy? Who stopped our march and paralyzed our feet on the slopes of the mountain? Who bound our hands and feet, took away our weapons, tore off our clothing, made a mockery of our bodies, cut off our hair, greased our faces with soot and paint and rubbed our hands in filth? Who tied our feet as if we were imprisoned animals? Would they be bandits who attacked us from a hideout? Would they possibly be the same enemy gods who previously insulted us and hurt us? Truly we do not know what happened or can we explain what has been done to us.
 
And while the humiliated tribal warriors were descending the mountain to return to their towns to recuperate, and to regroup for a new attack, the Patriarchs arranged for their people to raise wide defenses near the top. They gathered together the strong and agile men and with the help of all, they dug a circular ditch. To hide it, they covered it with a net of interwoven vines and tree fronds and spines. Behind the ditches they made a wall of tree trunks, flagstones and adobe. Then, against these walls, they propped up various mannequins of wood that resembled people. Between the arms of these mannequins they placed the weapons they had taken from the defeated tribal warriors. The winds made the arms move and agitated the hair, made from corn silk, which the mannequins had under their palm hats. From a distance and through the haze, such mannequins really looked like warriors posted in defense of the place. Upon finishing these preparations, the Patriarchs went to ask the gods for advice. Before these, they said:
 
"Do you wish to tell us if in this fight we will be conquered or will be the conquerors?" Keep in mind that our enemies are many and are courageous in their hearts, while we are few and poorly armed, and there is no hate in our spirit, but we only obey the will of destiny."
 
Tojil let his voice be heard:
 
"Do not torment yourselves thinking about what must happen, because we are here and in due time we will know how to dispense that which is necessary in order to overcome the threat against you."
 
This said the gods, using the arts with which they were skilled, attracted swarms of horseflies and wasps. These darkened the air with their wings; they settled submissively on the nearby rocks; here they remained quiet, obedient and incapable of continuing their flight any longer. Then, by revelation, Balam Quitzé said these words to their united people:
 
"Take these obnoxious insects and guard them in sealed wooden crates. Place the wooden crates near the barricades and wait for the appropriate time to open them. These pests will defend you from the attacks of the warriors from below. You must remain alert against the danger. Be awake to your ingenuity and your astuteness. Do not interrupt your vigil while watching the paths that descend to the valley of the enemy."
 
Indeed, they put those horseflies and those wasps in reed boxes. It seemed like the insects were going to break their enclosures with their wings. Inside their prison, they buzzed, spreading their dreadful noise. The people doubled their vigilance.
 
The sentinels on the paths and trails of the slopes remained alert. Mutually, they began to appraise any suspicious movement of the enemy. Any news on the ground or in the air was announced with sudden urgency.
 
Meanwhile the enemies, recovered from the defeat they had suffered, hurried about in preparation for a new fight. With undisguised agitation, they went from one place to another, consulting with one another, and preparing new weapons. Astonished they looked up, and with their eyes and hands threatened the warriors they believed they were seeing behind the barricades. More and more people continuously gathered on the plain, which was surrounded with spiny plants. The hate they felt for the intruders was also increasing. Their cries announced this hate, and they struck blows upon the ground as if possessed. It was evident that they were ready to die defending the land that had belonged to them from time immemorial. No one doubted the right they had to possess the land that now looked to be invaded by foreigners. For this reason nobody remained lazy; nobody just stood around idly. Some stretched deer skins for armor; others adorned themselves with flexible reeds which would shield them from blows; others sharpened strong wooden sticks for spears; others moistened the tips of arrows with poisonous resins; others filled backpacks with sharp-pointed objects; others gathered pebbles which could be shot from blowguns; others twisted strings of cotton to make masks and belts; others stretched bladders onto turtle shells to make drums; still others were perforating reed tubes to make them into flutes. Everyone performed his or her task with solemn haste, while thinking about the undertaking that would soon begin.
 
At nightfall, their work slackened; but the vigilance of the defenders on the paths and slopes was doubled. In the most dangerous places, they burned torches in order to better illuminate the area and to glimpse from afar the enemy's presence that would pretend to surprise them behind the security of the shade. Along with their red-hot coals and their splendor, one saw the rough, cone-shaped faces of the warriors who slithered about ready for combat. The reflected light from their lances, which were stuck into the ground, flashed and sparkled.
 
At daybreak they began to play their tunhules, their hicotea drums, their flutes and their hornpipes.
 
Noisy as a storm they scattered about the area full of courage. The shouts, the aggressiveness, the manners and the gestures of the warriors instilled dread among the peaceful people who contemplated these bellicose preparations. The children clung at the side of their mothers' skirts, covering their faces, while the elders shook their fists in a fearful and threatening manner.
 
Thus the youths, newly armed, began to climb again through the rugged paths of Hacavitz Mountain. They climbed placing their feet firmly upon the stone slabs and the clods of earth. To be more secure, they took advantage of the places that were less steep. They climbed agilely, like deer and mountain goats, among the rocks surrounded by brambles and spines. They climbed in long stretches and then stopped to rest and drink nourishment, while the lookouts advanced in order to observe the places occupied by the opposition. At each moment they expected to meet up with these sentries; they were sure they would succeed in being triumphant against their adversaries. Neither ambush was possible. From time to time the guides would cry out and signal, by waving cloth flags, that the path ahead was unobstructed, or that there was danger, or that it was necessary to stop, crouch, wait, or reverse or change direction. The elders and the women that remained below prodded the warriors, in disorderly voices, not to falter in their undertaking. They were going from one place to another, running and hoarsely intoning brave songs. They were dancing strange dances, lewd and warlike, around very high bonfires fed with logs cut from redried tree trunks. At times they took in their hands still hot ashes, they threw them directly on their faces, or first muddied them, so as to appear fearsome and ferocious. The carnivorous birds, excited by the tumult that they saw, flew level with the men and beasts. The coyotes and jackals jumped over the ditches and holes, biting their own lips and wounding them, so ravenous were they.
 
The defenders of the mountain, although distressed by the danger and threat that advanced before their eyes, they trusted in the providence of the gods who were favorable to them. They were sure that, in the appointed hour, they would not be abandoned and that, for the same reason, would not perish. Destiny would have to reserve for them eternal glory. They reassured one another with gestures and words. The cleverest among them, acting as sentries, posted themselves in inaccessible places, ready to sound the alarm if danger was imminent. With hidden caution, they observed the movements of the enemy who were already nearing the summit - making bellowing sounds and showing signs of fury never before seen, not even in the days of the most malevolent war. Thus there came a moment of anguished indecision for both factions. The shouting by those who ascended from the prairie hit against the cry of those who defended the crest of the mountain. Now the faces of some and of others could be seen among the thicket, like ears of corn among the tall stalks - of men armed with lances and clubs. The rustling noise of the shields became perceptible; and the heaving of the chests of those who stopped behind the rocks or of those who climbed over the trenches, due to deep and exhausted respiration, could be guessed.
 
One instant more and the enemies from above fell upon the enemies from below which, destroying the barricades, greedily approached the cusp of the mountain. a number of rocks, already dislodged by lances, ricocheted off the shields of some, producing a dry, deafening sound. The encounter, so feared, had finally begun. At the top, some arrows began to fly, whistling. The slingshots and blowguns shot pieces of sharp-pointed stones. Suddenly, the howl of pain of someone wounded was heard, like thunder that hits and reverberates. At this same instant, when the adversaries were about to grapple angrily with one another, the Patriarchs opened, according to what had been foreseen and ordered by Tojil, the tops of the baskets in which the horseflies and wasps were enclosed. In an instant the insects emerged with an impelling force, saturating the air with a buzzing and ominous noise, and fell like darts upon the enemies from below - who were climbing recklessly and irrationally - stinging their hands, arms, legs, thighs and faces. This terrible attack by the swarms of stinging insects first dispersed and then stunned and intimidated the climbers, who did not know what to do. In attempting to defend themselves from such unusual and strange aggression, they threw away their weapons. Bows, arrows and round shields fell to the ground. The afflicted warriors, relentlessly pursued by the horde, threw themselves though rugged paths, trails and abrupt places, trying to free themselves from the attack. Behind the fleeing men, the wild animals ran furiously, struggling against the onslaught against their own flesh. At the moment in which the disbandment spread and confusion was rampant, the people of Balam Quitzé descended and raged against the now disarmed fugitives. With their clubs, lances and slingshots they destroyed and killed all those within their reach. The laments, the complaints, the blasphemies and the curses uttered by the conquered ones were both dreadful and pitiful. The air was filled with dust, and the rocks covered with blood - this scene bearing witness to the great desolation that had occurred.
 
The image of the great defeat was visible even on the prairie below. The joy of the conquerors spread like the wind that was blowing strongly as if someone, from an invisible place, fanned and propelled it. The bodies of the defeated ones fell off of the precipices, and were dashed and torn apart. Bits of their flesh clung to the rocks. The mountain of Hacavitz was thus a place of triumph for the gods and the Patriarchs.
 
In this way the tribes faithful to Tojil and Balam Quitzé won that property forever for themselves. Meanwhile on the prairie, the few people that remained of those that had been defeated prostrated themselves at the feet of the conquerors.
 
The dwellers that had stayed on the mountain of Hacavitz understood now that the defeat of the enemies had been consummated and that the power of the gods was invincible. As a gesture of respect they raised their hands and shook them up high holding bunches of herbs and flowers.
 
Thus ended the fight between the tribes that arrived originally from Tulán and those who, because of their egotism, did not know how to defend or retain the land of their ancestors.
 
After establishing the dominion of the loyal tribes, the Patriarchs had a premonition that the hour of their death was nearing. With this thought in mind, they called the women and their children and their children's children. When these were gathered together before them, the Patriarchs were greatly moved - their faces afflicted with grief - and they burned perfumed incense. They hoped that the smoke would rise up on high and be dispersed by the wind. Then Balam Quitzé spoke in this manner:
 
"Know, and do not forget, that we, the Procreators, must go away. Know also that we will return at a time that will be indicated to you. Understand, finally, that the moment has arrived in which we must return to the place from where we came. According to the dictate of our consciences, we will return to the place of our origin. But before parting, we have to make provisions in accord with our obligation. For this reason, understand, without discord, that now we distribute the treasures that belonged to us. To those to whom it is owed, we have revealed our secrets. It has been revealed from on high that only those who should know should be given these secrets, and nobody else. Gather the grain and the seeds and the seedlings, because times of drought and hunger are approaching. Sharpen your weapons, because enemies hidden behind the mountain and the hills will not hesitate to covet these lands. After our departure, remember us. Do not leave us in oblivion. Evoke our faces and our words. Out image will be nectar in the hearts of those who wish to evoke it. We say more to you; care for your houses and your plots of land; walk through the paths that we open, because this and no other thing is what we command. Remain here, lest you forget the origin of your ancestors. This is the just thing to do. Do not expect the strangers to know what is necessary; know that only you will have the awareness and the spirit to fulfill this duty. Everything good and proper that you do must arise from your own initiative."
 
Thus spoke the patriarchs at the time that they were saying farewell to their loved ones. There was a moment of silence, and then the Patriarchs, with heads held high and their robes trailing on the ground, walked on top of the mountain. They soon began to descend the western slope. Then a dense cloud hid them.
 
Among the people of the mountain of Hacavitz the advice that had been given remained vividly in their memories. As a sign of respect for and compliance with its meaning, they burned aromatic herbs before the heavens. While the hot coals were burning, the oldest among them uttered these words that remained written in the spirit of everyone:
 
"Hurakán, heart of the night, giver of virtue, creator of our children, return to us. Do not deprive us of your presence. Give life and strength to our descendents so that they can grow and become strong in the good and know how to propagate out faith and to say your name, which will be invoked on the paths, on the cliffs, in the rivers, and under the trees, and beyond everything possible. Give to our children and the children of our children, sons and daughters."
 
"Prevent them from falling into sickness, danger, or curse of any kind. Do not allow them to stumble or hurt themselves. Make them always be united and clean. Do not let them be surprised or ambushed by enemies; or suffer from thirst or exhaustion. Do not let them become fornicators or sly deceivers. Send them strength so that they can go safely through open trails, without suffering misfortune or enduring magic spells. Protect them in their well-being and their feelings; but do not let them become vain with wealth or be made weak with kindness. Make them always be strong-hearted."
 
This said, they saw that the greatness of everyone was equal; that no advantage of one person over his neighbor resulted from better lineage; and that nobody aspired to a higher rank than his progeny. They remembered that in the council of the tribes were the best men of each house. And thus it was until dispersion and death came.
 

END OF PART I

 
 
 
 

PART II

The Wizards

 

 

Chapter 1

 
We will now speak about the mystery of the life and death of the Ahpú brothers. We will also tell of the adventures of Hunaphú and Ixbalanqué in their own land, and the tribulations they suffered in Xibalbá, a place of desolation and ruin.
 
At a time that is not possible to determine there lived the Ahpú men, who were renowned in the Quiché land. According to the ancient legend, these men were the sons of Ixpiyacoc and Ixmucané. The father, Ixpiyacoc, died when the Ahpú were children. One of the Ahpú had Ixbaquiyaló as a wife, from whom were born Hunbatz and Hunchouén. Ixbaquiyaló also died soon after.
 
The Ahpú were endowed with wisdom. Among the arts they possessed stood out those concerned with magic and spells. They were not egotists, but rather prodigals. They offered with pleasure their skills to those who were in need of help or aid. In addition, they were singers, orators, jewelers, writers, engravers, carvers and prophets. They saw the future in the stars, in the sand, and in the palms of the hands. They also were acquainted with the movement of the clouds. There was no craft that was strange to them; they understood and mastered them all. They performed them with grace and skill. They were satisfied with their diverse professions. For enjoyment, they adorned themselves artistically and played ball in the squares - a popular sport of that time. They were so skilled in this game, that they were the envy of others. Enthusiastically, they showed off this skill only on occasions of frolicking and diversion.
 
During this obscure time, there lived in Xibalbá malevolent beings. Two of these were named Xiquiripat and Cuchumaquic, whose spirit was contrary to that of the Ahpú. Among the mean-spirited and outrageous acts that Xiquiripat and Cuchumaquic committed is the following: They occupied themselves with afflicting the blood of the people who lived in the area. They accomplished this through the occult methods of sorcery.
 
Two others of these black magicians were named Ahalpú and Ahalganá. These beings created trouble by fomenting in others destructive instincts. As a natural tendency, they occupied themselves with provoking the conceits that were prevalent among the people of the region. They injured the legs and feet of the travelers. They turned the faces of those who were early risers yellow, crippled them by injuring their spines, and then abandoned them at the precipices of the mountains. If people got sick from other evils, they approached them, grabbed them by the feet and dragged them to inaccessible places where they would die without being found by anyone.
 
Chimiabac and Chiamiaholom also had evil intentions. They were mace-bearers. They were dedicated to breaking the bones of people. They performed their deeds with knotted cudgels, which they swung furiously in the air. They left intact the heads of their victims, so that they would suffer more and for a longer time. After these lay bruised for a time, they took their bodies and carried them toward hidden places in which they could not be found and helped. Of the same ilk were Ahalmez and Ahaltoyab, who were strong enough to provoke misfortune and ruin among the people of the place. They did violence to the last of the victims by hanging them up, piercing their shoulders and taking out their eyes. These poor wretches were black and blue and swollen, and were choking for breath. They did this in a very cruel way. At night they took the victims and led them to places they knew to be conducive to their death. There they left them nude and face up, looking up at the sky. The carnivorous birds tore out their insides and spread them over the land. Of even worse nature were Xic and Patán, who busied themselves by cornering those who were dying on the paths and on the slopes of the mountains; those who were dying suddenly; those who were ending their days, throwing up blood from their mouth; and caused these to stop breathing in a violent way. With everyone, they squeezed their throat and knelt on their chest to collapse their ribs into their lungs.
 
During the time these beings existed and fulfilled their destinies, the sparrow hawk messenger of Hurakán knew how skilled and how different were those of the Ahpú. He came down from the clouds in narrowing circles; he rested on the branch of an oak tree and then, in one jump placed himself before them (the Ahpú), at the moment in which they began to play ball. The sparrow hawk felt happy seeing them so skilled and spirited. In fact, the Ahpú were playing with more dexterity than ever. Their shouts of enthusiasm were not moderated, nor did they care about the uproar they were making. They clapped their hands like young noblemen in love. Their cheeks were bright red and their mouths were half open. They concluded one game and began another, each time more excitedly. But when it was evening, the men of Xibalbá heard their noise. These, proud as they were, spoiled with their power, felt offended by the lack of modesty and moderation of the Ahpú men. Filled with anger they wanted to know who was upsetting, in such an insolent way, their peace and quiet. Oppressed by misfortune they gathered together and with envy they said, "Who are those who play near our city? How do they dare to make so much noise with their voices and the blows on their balls by their paddles? We did not know that there were such audacious people in this vicinity. Let us go out soon to look for them, and bring them, dead or alive, for we wish to see their faces. If they come alive we will play the ritual (ball) game with them and if they lose we will be able to punish them, as they deserve, without anyone believing us to be unjust. Let us send, then, our most skilled messengers to find them and inform them of our desire.
 
The men of Xibalbá were in agreement with the plan of their elders, and they sent four messengers to give their message to the players. The messengers - who were owls - had distinct faces and each looked different. They spoke with diverse voices. One shouted; another laughed; another growled, while still another whistled. Without waiting for a new order, they fulfilled their task; they set themselves down on the house of the Ahpú, which was next to a neighborhood known for its richness, the abundance of its fishes, for its placid wind, and filled with aromas that always wafted through the air. The atmosphere of their alleys and their patios was saturated with essences and music. The many birds of the region flew over the roofs of the houses and stopped fearlessly on the brambles of the gardens. No one harmed them. There they spread the lullaby of their songs. They came down to the meadows and ate from the ears of corn, drank water from the irrigation ditches and fell asleep in the brambles - their stomachs inflated and satisfied. The messengers left the roof and advanced to where the Ahpú were. When they were near them, they communicated the message that they brought.
 
One of the Ahpú, interrupting the game, answered:
 
"Is this message you bring to us true?"
 
"You have already heard it. What we say is true. We have been sent to you and we do not bring words of deceit."
 
"Before we fulfill your order, you must wait, because we need to say goodbye to our mother."
 
"You may do everything which your conscience dictates. We will wait here."
 
Then the Ahpú left the game field and went to their house. In it they saw Ixmucané and said to her:
 
"Our father Ixpiyacoc is dead, only you are left, you know it well. Your power is the security of our authority. We have no other support. Well, we say to you what we would have said to him if he were alive. You must know, then, that the messengers from Xibalbá have come for us. They bring us a message from the men over there. We should respond to their request, because it is not possible for us to dismiss their order. We know what this means. Give us your advice regarding this matter.
 
Upon hearing this news the mother became sad and answered:
 
"It is well. If it is necessary to fulfill the order of the men from Xibalbá, fulfill it. Leave then your ornaments of splendor and utensils of the game. Here I will guard them in secret, so that no one will know but me, because no one must ever touch them without your permission."
 
They answered:
 
"If that is what you want us to do, that shall we do."
 
"That I want you to do, because that is our duty," answered the mother without raising her eyes from the ground.
 
Thus they did it. They deposited their instruments in a hole that was in the loft of the house, under the straw roof, on a beam that joined the two walls. Then they said to their mother:
 
"When we return from the visit we are going to make, we will take them again."
 
"While your absence lasts, there they will be. You will find them intact," added the mother.
 
Then she put her hand on one of their shoulders and said to them:
 
"Sons, wherever you are do not abandon the crafts that Ixpiyacoc taught you, because they are crafts that come from the tradition or our forefathers. If you forget them, it will be as if you betray your ancestry. Do not stop writing, or engraving, or singing, or praying. These occupations belong to you and not to others. Do not part from these crafts; remember that I live and that your father watches over you."
 
"Thus shall we do it." the Ahpú answered. As it was time to depart, they saw that Ixmucané was weeping, and they said to her:
 
"Do not cry, do not be sad, for we are not dead yet. Our children, who are your grandchildren, remain by your side. They will know in the meantime to honor your old age."
 
The mother did not respond to these words. The Ahpú then departed; they walked through hidden paths and entered the mystery of Xibalbá. The men of the town took them as prisoners.
 
Without justice and after various trials, they declared the Ahpú to be defeated (in the ritual ball game). They were manacled and enclosed in a dark and narrow dungeon. The anguish of their solitude did not last long. The light of the morning shined when several executioners approached them.
These were tall and strong, and their faces were painted red and yellow. On their lips were painted teeth, so that they appeared to be laughing with a perennially cruel smile.
 
Fearlessly, the Ahpú saw them approach. They hardly moved their eyes before their presence. The executioners remained silent. The order they were to carry out was certain and precise. With their clubs, they killed the Ahpú with a single blow. When they saw them lying motionless on the dusty floor, they took their bodies, quartered them and buried the pieces in a luxuriant place called Pucbal Chah.
 
Then they took out the severed heads of the slain ones and, as a trophy, hung them from a branch of a corpulent tree that had grown in that place for a long time, such that the people called it the Grandfather. This tree had never produced either a flower or a fruit. The night that came after what has just been described was the darkest that anyone was able to remember in Xibalbá. Not one star was seen in the sky, not one firefly glowed, as in other times, among the humid thickets; not even the owls with their silver spots could be discerned in the density of this night. The fire that the rustic ones had kindled was extinguished. Soon a rough and tepid wind began to blow in gusts. Having grown, it lasted all night, sweeping the debris from the paths, and shaking the branches and reeds from the trees. The tree trunks swayed as if they were on the verge of breaking due to the force that was pushing them. The dust that was raised veiled all of the surroundings, as if everything was immersed in a thick fog. In the distance was heard the grunting of a pack of javelinas. The bowls of the earth shook. The paths cracked and split. At daybreak the great tree flowered and bore fruit. It appeared to be a mass of vitality. No one had ever seen anything like this before. The men of Xibalbá were astonished upon finding out about this event. But they were more astonished when they discovered that the heads of the slain Ahpú that had been hung there had disappeared. Then the Camé, the despotic elders of Xibalbá, fearful, decreed that no one was to get near the great tree and that no one was to dare to touch the shell of the fruits which had formed on it. All of Xibalbá was thrown into a state of panic. The people enclosed themselves within their huts and did not dare to comment aloud about the events that were developing in that place.
 
 

Chapter 2

 
As if by magic, the news of these events reached the ears of an important maiden from the land of Xibalbá. This maiden was named Ixquic and was the daughter of Cuchumaquic. When Ixquic discovered what the people of the village were saying about the great tree and the fruits that were hanging from its branches, she wanted to find out for herself the truth behind all that had happened. Submissively, she approached her father and said to him:
 
"Father, according to what I have heard, the tree you know about has beautiful fruits. If you wish, let us go see them."
 
The father, a fearful man, did not want to go; he predicted that in the presence of those fruits constant misfortunes would befall their family. For this reason, he answered his daughter:
 
"Daughter, curiosity is unhealthy - above all in a woman; and worse yet if this woman, like you, is inexperienced and unfamiliar with the evil ways of men and the spying of enemy forces that live around us. From curiosity results misfortune, and perhaps death. Defend yourself from it; do not allow yourself to be seduced by its temptations if you wish to live in peace with yourself. Do not expect my consent. It would be frivolous if I gave in to your request. Distressed by her father's rejection, Ixquic left, intending to disobey his will, and excited by the mystery, wanted to go alone to the tree. In silence, and with emotion, she reached the place where the tree of the heads was located, filled with leaves. Next to it, Ixquic, without knowing why, shook and became pale. She thought:
 
"What fruits are these? Is it true, as they say, that they have a good flavor? Is it true that they give out a good aroma? If I try them will I regret it, as my father warned? But what could happen to me? I am sure that neither my body nor my spirit will suffer."
 
As if these thoughts were heard by whoever could hear them and have authority to answer them, a voice that came out from among the fruits said:
 
"What are you looking for and what do you want, Ixquic?"
 
And before Ixquic could respond, that same voice declared:
 
"Answer, Ixquic; speak, tell: what are you looking for and what is your wish? We want to hear your voice; we want to listen to you."
 
Ixquic, without flinching, as if everything she was hearing was natural and familiar to her, replied:
 
"I am looking for all of you and I desire you all."
 
"If it is true what you say," exclaimed the same voice, "extend one of your arms to see your hand."
 
Ixquic, obeying directly, raised one of her arms, extending it toward the tree. Then one of its fruits threw out saliva onto the palm of her hand. Ixquic withdrew her arm; but when she tried to see what had fallen on her hand she saw nothing; she found it to be clean and dry, as before. The voice then spoke to her in this way:
 
"The saliva that fell on your hand is the sign that we exist; but it also indicates that our life is full of suffering. Understand it thus. Our heads are empty; they have only bones. Yesterday, as you know, we were great lords, powerful and wise; the people feared our ire; they cried for our justice and were pleased to see our faces, because these were resplendent, without being (blinding) like that of the sun. They respected us. Our presence was good and we knew how to practice magic arts. For these reasons our enemies looked upon us with envy and with rancor. They could not hide their ill will. They lived while keeping watch for a chance to destroy us. They never had a legitimate opportunity to satisfy their desire for evil. At last they made use of a pretext to trap us. Deceitfully they lured us before their presence. It was within our capability to free ourselves from them, but fate decreed, within our consciousness, that we should be quiet. You already know the rest. They declared us to be defeated (in the ball game), they killed us and then they broke our bodies into pieces. They hung our heads here; these heads disappeared because it was not good that they mocked us; in their place came up the fruits that you are looking at. The people who see them flee fearfully; but, as you also know, they have no reason to fear them. We are clean fruits, as clean as the spirit that sustains us. For this reason hear us in peace, such as you are doing. With this attitude, no harm will come to you; neither will you repent having come before us. Obey your destiny and hear the hidden voices that come from the land upon which you tread. You must know that the pleasure and pain of the parents is transmitted to the children, so, by means of the sign you received on your hand and which your eyes did not see, the nobility of our caste will be perpetuated in you. And thus it will never perish. Pay attention to what we are telling you here because in you will be reborn our lineage. Go, go away now from this place and return home because you will not die without knowing that what we have announced to you is reality. Be chaste, discreet and try to understand the meaning that these words you have heard carry."
 
And so it was that these slain men, the Ahpú, fulfilled the eternal purpose that was to be fulfilled though them and that desire, from above, that Hurakán had instilled in them at the moment of creation.
 
Ixquic, filled with joy and amazement, returned home. She had enjoyed the events that she had just experienced, but was alarmed at something inside of her, the nature of which she could neither understand nor grasp. In her being, in fact, had been accomplished what the words of the Ahpú had announced. In this way, she conceived in her womb the brothers Hunahpú and Ixbalanqué. During the first period Ixquic remained silent and hid from everyone's sight. No one offended the timidity of her glance or the intimacy of her secret. She was a virgin in her eyes and everyone else's, but at the end of two moons, Cuchumaquic saw that his daughter was pregnant. She did not suspect or realize that fact until her own father revealed it to her. This happened as will now be told:
 
Cuchumaquic looked for Hun Camé and Vacub Camé and before them, he said gravely:
 
"It is true that my daughter is pregnant - which is her dishonor and mine. Ashamed, I say it to you.