IN THE OLDEN TIME. 
249 
placed it reverently in the mouth of the idol, loudly 
chanting this prayer: “ Lord, hear us, for we are thine ! 
Give us health, give us children and prosperity, that 
thy people may increase ! Give us water and the rains, 
that we may be nourished and live! Hear our suppli¬ 
cations, receive our prayers, assist us against our ene¬ 
mies, and grant us peace and quiet! ” And the people 
cried, “So be it, 0 Lord!” 
The body had been extended on a rounded sacrificial 
stone and the neck held securely by the yoke; but now 
it was hurled down the side of the pyramid where there 
were no steps, and those appointed carried the remains 
to the caldron whither those who had the right came 
for the cooked meat, the hands and feet being reserved 
for the officiating priest. 1 One by one the victims were 
offered to the idol, while the pyramid was no longer 
white, but crimson; and their death-shrieks were ring¬ 
ing in my ear, when Frank laid his hand on my shoulder 
and asked if I was asleep. Called back to deserted ruins 
and the humdrum present, I could not entirely shake 
off the impression of the past. On that little mound 
where we were sitting so peacefully, hundreds, yes, 
thousands, of our fellow-men had writhed in agony to 
satisfy the enmity of their fellows or to be an ac¬ 
ceptable offering to the gods who were supposed to 
be their creators. 2 Truly there are few nations whose 
1 I have often had the pleasure of conversing with cannibals, and they 
always assured me that the hands were the choicest morsel. It will he noted 
that the Central American Indios always boiled their cannibal food, while 
the Pacific Islanders as generally roasted it. In one of the manuscripts pre¬ 
served in the Vatican Library is a clear picture of this process, and the kettle 
seems large enough to receive the body whole. 
2 It is the way of Christian communities to speak with holy horror of the 
human sacrifices these heathen were accustomed to offer at each new year to 
