Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1893-03-02
AH1AN, THE HIDDEN CITY.

lE st1E|AHgSs8l5 Hlg{Es 8l5lIlt!Faf
He coQld see nothing IN the abyss belo1o.
The beams of the morning sun had
been slanting down on the level plain
above Atzlan for an hour, but the city
was still in deep shadow a thousand or
more feet below. Rosy tints lowered
about the vermilion edges of the great
cliffs, ,mingling with yellow and gray
and saffron colored belts farther down,
throwing into ghostly relief the white;.
caste11ated promontories of the majestic
sculptured. wall and deepening the
blackness of the dark recesses.
But there were people astir in the
streets and fields and on the housetops,
for the storm that had risen in fury
during the night had wrought some
damage to dwellings, and, it was feared,
70 the focks in the pastures.
But NO eye was directed toward the
cliffs, for the sky was now clear, and no
further disturbance was apprehended
5 from that direction. Storms were few
and far between in Atzlan; they ragged
on the plains at frequent intervals in
springtime, but troubled not the dwell
ers in the deep canyon, who never took
the pains to climb the steep cliff sides.
Had curious eyes peered upward they
would perhaps have discerned a figure
outlined clearly against the sky, but they
could not have seen that it wore no Atz-
Ian garb, and that it surpassed in height
any Atzlan man, or that it bent forward
and seemed to eagerly strive, to pene-
trate the darkness of the canyon. Each
early riser carried torch and was too
intent upon his errand to waste time gaz-
ing aloft, or he might hssre seen the fig
ure slowly clam bering down an ancient,
rude pathway leading to the first terrace.
where ruined cliff houses and caves,
abagdoned centuries ago, were the only
evidences of former human occupation.
But the man on the heights had seen
the moving torches, and up whereohe
was it was light enough toeasily pick his
way.
It was Eric Gilbert, and he was seek
ing point of observation before itgrew
|, light. in order.to ascertain what manner
of men these were who carried the lights
far beneath him. Hostile Indians he
knew might in all reason be encountered
in those wilds, and he had escaped one
danger too narrowly to fall carelessly
into another.
Events had crowded SO quickly upon
him during the last few hours that he
was prepared for anything. Unaware
even in what state or territory in the
Union he had been thrown in the last
wild bound of the balloon, he did not
know what he might encounter, and
though the craving for water and food
began to assert itself he was resolved to
let his caution govern his necessity.
He had gathered the instruments,
which he had thrown in heap near the
edge of the cliff, and covered them with
blanket. They consisted of q small
electric battery and lighting apparatus
ian invention of Pierce's), a lantern,
thermometer and barometer, a camera
and plate box holding hundred instan-
taneous plates, some medical instru-
ments in case, quadrant and few
otherarticles.
He carried his Winchester rifle in his
left hand, blanket thrown over his
arm, and q carrier pigeon, whose broken
wing hung limp and Tapping, in his
right hand, making his descent matter
of care. The light was growing stronger
IN the canyon when he reached a level
sfslf or terrace edged with a rough
stone wall and lined with caves and cliff
dwellings; caves whose mouths were
built up in cyclopean masonry, leaving
q narrow entrance to be reached by g
ladder Of rope or poles.
He felt the need of haste, although
even yet he could see nothing in the
abyss below, and finding convenient
opening into cave close at hand, yet
where he could overlook the depths, he
laid down his burden and waited for the
light to fill the canyon.
The futter of the wounded bird
aroused his pity, and he bound its wing
to its side with a strip of his handker-
chief and laid it upon his blanket, feel
ing sort of companionship in its pres
ence-a link with the outer world.
Resting as he was from long vigil and
long continued struggle, he stretched
himself beside the bird and fell asleep.
Long before the sun rose upon Atzlan
figure stirred upon the top of the high
est building in the city, whence arose q
slim, blue column of smoke. The figure
moved with slow, hesitating steps from
one side of the low walled housetop to
the other, as if from habit, although the
burden of years had turned the exercise
into q toilsome journey.
He was Iklapel, the high priest of
Atzlan, watching before the sacred, mex,
tinguishable fire of Kinchahan, the sun
god, which for centuries had burned
and would burn forever.
Even in the half light of the coming
dawn it could be seen that Iklapel was
old and blind, and though his figure
bowed many an inch before his only
master, Time, fine and tall, thin and
withered, it still showed the remains of
powerful and graceful form. Now and
) then he held his wasted hands over the
languid fire to measure its burning or
cast few twigs of cedar upon it. NUT
tering, as old men do, to himself the
while. AS the sky grew brighter and
redder with the dawn he seemed to feel
It and know that the day was approach
ing, for he raped sharply several times
upon the roof, as if in summons to an
other person.
In moment second figure appeared,
coming up through trapdoor, and
stood before him in a respectful, yet
easy and familiar attitude. Then as the
aged K1ape1 tottered it sprang to his
side and lovingly passed strong arm
about him, leading him to a stone seat
beside the altar and placing him ten
fIfTr1Is -