San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1893-02-13

rails me, and you, my son, shall perform
the sacred rite. No one but myself for
eighty-ive years has shed the blood of
the virgin sacrifice, and yet it's with a
cheerful heart l lay the Office down. At
noon put ON the holy robe, and, as you
alone have been instructed, perform the
rite that our people may be held to-
gether and their religion be preserved"
The hand against Iklapel's bosom was
trembling, and Kulcan's figure shook
with the emotion he endeavOred to sup
press. For some moments he appeared
unable to reply. Then placing his hand
upon the I'D mans shoulder he said:
my father, you tell me to perform
the rite that our people may be held to-
gether and their religion preserved.
Why not say that the sun god may be
merciful to us and preserve our people?'
His voice had bitter, sarcastic ring,
and the old man replied quickly:
"Oh, Kulcan, you will not learn the
lesson l have striven so diligently to
teach. Know that the people are not as
we are and cannot be lifted to the level
of our knowledge. You, who have been
initiated into the mysteries and dwelt in
the higher atmosphere of lofty thought,
do not realize the distance between their
and our conception of religion. Among
: all the priests to you alone have | dared
to reveal my inward thoughts and true
| beliefs, but it was because | saw in you,
as in the dead governor, your father, the
| spirit of philOsOphic reason, as well as
the tact to bow to popular prejudice in
religious matters. have spoken to you
as to my own soul. You know that
| despise the images of the god and wOr-
ship him, as | have taught you, without
fires or feasts or sacrifices; but you know
| that the people require these signs and
| symbols to keep them true to their Obedi-
ence; that It's thus we rule them and not
with reason or philosophy. IT'S the
tribute they pay to intellect-the tribute
they have paid for countless ages and
| must in some form continue to pay"
But It's time, impulsively interrupt
ed Kulcan, that they We're. brought to
| see that these cruel, inhuman sacrifices
should be abolished. Something, know
not what, tells me that we are beyond
| and above them now, and that the people
! themselves will welcome the change and
rejoice that their children no longer may
be thrown to the senseless image of the
| fierce, bloOdthirsty sun god! Oh, father"
| he cried, shuddering, ''can we not devise,
| before it is forever too late, some means
| to prevent this murder of Ainee?"
| at is even now too late" answered
the aged priest cOldly. Can you not see
with what feverish Impotence the peo-
| pie await the Light of this day? They
know their children are safe now that
the lot has fallen on the girl Aimee, and
they thirst for the spectacle for which
they have waited thirteen years. Today
they believe Quetzalcoatl, with his dove
| upon his hand, will return, as on this
day for ages they have looked for him.
In vain will they look; he will not re-
turn, but they must have their sacrifice,
or their wrath will turn upon the priests,
and we shall perish. Upon it rests our
| very existence. MurmurS have already
| been heard against us-we are called
idlers and bread eaters of the poor. 1t is
our only hope, and upon you it will rest
today. Were it only a question of my
life or your life alone, would willingly
die; but we cannot prevent the slaughter
by our deaths.
"Alas, my son" (the old mans voice
sOftened and quivered), thine brings but
the same tale. Eighty long years ago |,
too loved a maiden as you, know-nay,
start not-love Aimee; yet she was
chosen, and this withered hand plunged
the sacred knife into her throat. Her
eyes were on me as she fell upon my
breast-they are with me now! killed
her, and when the day was done
climbed the cliff and wandered out upon
the desert plains which lie about the
city in search of some other land. For
days roamed, returning for water and
food, and then starting anew in other
directions, as you, too, have done, in a
spirit of discovery, and finding, as you
have done, that we are alone in the
world-a city in a desert-the remnants
of once great people, returned to my
duties, and since that day have been
the most jealous in guarding the tradi-
tional customs of our religion"
But, my father, we have the power,
if we will, to prevent this horrid sacri-
flee today! Some plausible excuse can
be offered to the credulous people, and
an animal perhaps be substituted for the
beautiful maiden"
ut is too late, even were willing"
replied the aged priest. Gas is the Gus
tom when the feast of the Thirteenth
Year approaches, all prodigies in nature,
in the skies and on the earth, are eagerly
regarded as omens of good or evil. The