I. Preface
Their country was poor, its land barren and plagued by droughts. Crops were few but mouths were plentiful, when the time came for sharing, the wheat harvests were followed by civil wars. Then the crops were destroyed but the mouths also became fewer. This is how they survived, men as rough and merciless as the land that gave birth to them. However, they did not decide to abandon it. Something kept them there, tied to the soil, perhaps the spilled blood or perhaps the recollection of ancient glories.
II. The Promise
During that time of famine, the Prophet appeared. A tall, scraggly man, not in his prime. Red-haired, he had a tufted, fiery-yellow beard, melancholy and dreamy eyes, a voice as monotonous as a sheep's bleating. No one knew where his hat came from, or even his name. He said he came from a long way away, that he had traveled to the ends of the world. He pointed to them with his finger, far out on the horizon, something they could not make out. An island. But he had seen it with his own eyes, he had walked on it. Its soil was fertile, the crops grew without cultivation, the trees bore fruit six times a year. But the real wealth was hidden underground, wherever you dug you would find diamonds, rubies, emeralds, amethysts, sapphires. Gold deposits poured into the rivers, even the rocks in the mountains shone golden. We will leave here, he told them, we will cross the sea, we will reach the blessed land and inhabit it. Follow me. I will lead you.
III. The Argonauts
They listened to him and laughed, then most of them turned their backs on him; they had had enough of charlatans like him. Only a few followed him, the most determined, the most desperate. They sold everything they had to rig a ship, a three-masted galleon the like of which the shipyards had never built. With the most durable oak they built its keel, the masts were made of pine, the hull and decks were made of beech. They stocked it with provisions for the long journey, barrels of drinking water, biscuits, salted meat and fish, they armed it with twelve cannons. They christened it Eldorado, they wanted the starting point, the means and the destination to coincide in one and the same name. When everything was ready, they manned it themselves, a crew of 199 souls, and among the crowd, 39 sailors, 62 mercenaries, 41 ex-convicts, 22 officers, 7 sailors, 3 cooks, 8 carpenters, 5 blacksmiths, 8 students, 3 priests, but only one doctor boarded. The two hundredth person to board the ship was the Prophet, the Seaman, the First Helmsman. He gave the order, they raised the anchor, the sails were hoisted. A fair wind was blowing, no sacrifice was needed. From the waterfront, mothers, women and children waved their handkerchiefs at them.
IV. At Sea
They opened up to the ocean, after a few hours and the last land disappeared from the binoculars. They sailed eastward, as he had instructed them. The sails were set high and the sea was calm, favoring the journey. On the ninth day, however, the weather began to deteriorate. Northwest winds raised waves like mountains, the sky darkened, a storm broke out. In the storm, their compass went crazy, they proceeded blindly into the eye of the cyclone. The ship sank into the salt water and then resurfaced. The wind was breaking the antennae and tearing the sails, so that they would not be torn completely, they were forced to take in the jibs. The storm lasted for three days and nights, but the next morning the storm subsided just as suddenly and unexpectedly as it had attacked them. What followed was worse, a lack of air and no wind. They no longer knew where they were or how far they had traveled. Immobilized in the middle of the liquid element, under a tropical sun that burned mercilessly, unable to sail forward at full speed or even turn back, they counted the days that passed idly. Five, ten, twenty; then, they lost track of time. The drinking water became cloudy, the biscuits became moldy, they also took salted meat and fish to worm. So that they wouldn't die of hunger and thirst, the Seafarer ordered that their rations be reduced, now they were measured bite by bite, drop by drop. They slaughtered the horses one by one, dismembered them, ate every last one, then set traps for rats. When the watchman, dazed as he was from the sun and hunger, fell and was crushed by the middle mast, the starved sailors gathered around his corpse like hyenas smelling carrion. The Seafarer stopped them by threatening them with his pistol. A great sin, he roared, but he knew too that next time he wouldn't be able to stop them. He feared that they would rebel, but they, albeit reluctantly, obeyed him, all strength for resistance had deserted them. Skeletonized as they were, from vitamin deficiency they were being ravaged by diseases, dysentery, typhus, scurvy, malaria, yellow fever. The doctor was the first to succumb, without his medical knowledge the deadly disease spread, others followed suit. They left the dying helpless on the deck, so as not to infect the rest, not even the priests came near to hear their confessions, and when they finally gave up the ghost, they threw the bodies into the sea in a hurry without even singing the funeral service. They had almost given up all effort and prayed and awaited their fate.
But Divine Providence had not forgotten them. Their prayers were heard, a sweet Zephyr blew to cool the heat, the ship began to move again, as if by itself, a sea current was pushing it towards its destination. They traveled all night and in the morning, as the sun rose, a cry from the bow woke them from the nightmare: Solid! An island was visible on the edge of the horizon; There! There! There! Look! The Eldorado! Resurrected from the dead, they threw themselves again on the ropes, on the sails, on the rigging, on the helm; by noon they had come alongside. But its shores were steep, reefs lurked beneath the waters, rocks on the shores. They had difficulty finding a anchor and when they finally thought they had reached a sheltered bay, they fell into a trap, the waters there were shallow, the hull ran aground. Repairing the damage was impossible, except for one, all the carpenters and blacksmiths had died on the journey. Now there was no way back, the bridges had been cut behind them. Better this way, murmured the Seaman, who wants to leave Paradise?
- V. The Conquest
At dusk they disembarked in boats on land, took the cannons off the ship. Almost half of them had survived the hardships, 101 souls. They left a guard of 6 sailors on the galleon and the rest set out to explore the interior, first to search for food, then for gold. They satisfied their hunger with mangoes and bananas, quenched their thirst with coconut milk. Exhausted, they fell asleep on the sand, neither lighting fires nor setting up watchtowers. However, their stomachs unaccustomed to the exotic fruits, they did not sleep all night from dysentery. The next morning, at the first light of dawn, they girded the chariots again and plunged deep into the jungle. Three leagues from the coast, they came upon a village of natives. Huts made of clay and straw, women and children half-naked sitting on the ground in the mud. When they saw them coming with their armor and their arquebuses shining in the sunlight, they fell to their knees and bowed down in awe. The chieftain received them with honors that are not fitting for mortals but only for immortals. He offered them a drink with a sharp taste that brought dizziness; then they smoked green leaves in a clay pipe. But hunger still gnawed at their stomachs, and as soon as the king's daughters spread out the roasted meat on banana peels before them, they threw themselves at once into the feast. They ate greedily with their hands, tearing the flesh, crunching the bones, sucking the marrow, they had never tasted more delicious meat. The host laughed heartily at the gluttony of the divine strangers, then, full of pride, showed them the carcasses that had been sacrificed in their honor. Then they saw the face of horror mocking them with a disgusting grimace; tiny skulls of enemies of the race stuck in stakes decorated the altar. Unspeakable terror seized these hard-nosed seafarers, their knees buckled, their hearts were paralyzed, their bowels were stirred. In a corner, kneeling, the missionary was vomiting his entrails, the men imitated him, sticking their fingers in their mouths to expel the unholy food they had unintentionally tasted. Then the Seaman drew his pistol and aimed at the chieftain between the eyes; one shot and immediately he collapsed to the ground with surprise painted on his face; why were the gods angry with him? In a flash, as if someone had given the order, the mercenaries followed the example of their leader. They unsheathed their swords, armed their cannons, and with vengeful fury they rushed upon the savages to punish them. Amok! Amok! the cannibals screamed in their incomprehensible language and ran in panic to escape, but it was too late, there was no salvation. Within a few minutes, everything was over. Men, women and children lay dead on the ground. Then they set fire to burn the huts, the village was engulfed in flames. The priest blessed the pyre that purified the area; the cannibals, he said, received just punishment. They searched the ashes for gold but found nothing. We made a mistake, the Seaman mused, we should have kept a few alive to tell us where they were hiding it. But we will find out! Next time!
Stubborn by their failure, they continued their campaign. On their way, they entered other villages, all similar to the first. They encountered no resistance anywhere, the primitive tribes were too busy fighting among themselves. The superiority of their weapons gave them easy victories, but they showed no mercy to their enemies. Those they did not kill, they captured to torture. But, despite the tortures they were subjected to, no one opened their mouth to testify about the hiding places; as if gold was more important to them than even life itself. They even pretended not to understand what was being asked of them; when the Seafarer showed them the gold ring on their finger, they stared at it with wide eyes as if they had never seen the precious metal before. The incomprehensible refusal fueled their rage; so they constantly advanced, killing, burning and plundering.
- VI. The Sacrifice
They once reached the foot of a volcano, at its roots they camped to spend the night. They divided the shifts, lit fires, on the coals they roasted three water buffaloes, the prey of the hunt. Along with their meat they ate forest mushrooms, the cook assured them that they were safe. They sat down to digest around the flame, sang nostalgic hymns from the homeland, smoked the leaves that the natives had taught them. Suddenly the Prophet fell into a trance. His body shook, rhythmically at first, convulsively later, the pupils of his eyes turned and the whites of his eyes appeared. He writhed, his lips foamed, he roared like a beast. He held the vision for a few seconds and then immediately stood up straight and with outstretched arms he began to preach. His voice had become monotonous again, as before, but in the glow of the flame his shadow seemed huge, like that of a giant. Behind the mountain, he told them, a mighty city is built and awaits us. Its houses are made of gold, its utensils are silver. Pearls and mother-of-pearl grow on its trees. We will climb to the top, cross to the other side and conquer it. There we will establish a kingdom. It will become our new homeland!
Then, his one-eyed aide approached him silently and thrust his dagger into his back. The Prophet stood motionless for a moment as if petrified, and then he fell face down into the fire. The flames scorched his face, the sting tickled their nostrils. The men, beside themselves, threw themselves upon him and stabbed him with their spears until they had slaughtered him. Bits of his blood and flesh mixed with those of the buffalo, and those who ate them did not understand any difference, animal and man had become one. They lay down on the ground to sleep, but their sleep was restless, every now and then the Erinyes disturbed him. When they woke up the next morning, only then did they realize the horrible crime they had committed. They fell to their knees in repentance, shed hot tears, tore their clothes, scratched their cheeks with their nails, plucked out their beards, pulled out their hair. They begged the All-Good and Merciful God to have mercy on them and forgive them, and then again asked for the harshest punishment in the eternal fire of Hell. But the priest confessed them and gave them absolution. It was not they who were to blame, he told them, for what had happened, but the devil's weed and Lucifer's mushrooms. From now on, anyone who tasted them would be forbidden, cursed for ever and ever. This reassured them, it was an explanation, a certain interpretation. The flock gathered again around the shepherd to hear the word of God speaking through his mouth; he responded to the mission and raised his voice: We will make amends for the evil we have done. We will go up the mountain and find the city that the Prophet told us about. We will inhabit it and give it his name. Thus his sacrifice will not be in vain. Amen! Amen! The churchgoers repeated like an echo, "Let His will be done!"
VII. At the Top
The atonements of mourning lasted for three days and nights, and at dawn on the fourth day the small army of patricide soldiers began the difficult climb. Only 88 of the original Two Hundred remained; even easy victories have their price. At their head marched the priest and the murderer; the liberators are crowned shepherds of the flock. The terrain was difficult, the paths were rugged, beneath their feet cliffs, ravines, and abysses loomed threateningly. With toil and sweat they dragged the cannons, the ropes chafed their backs, their palms bled, their soles also scratched the sharp stones. But when they reached the top, the view compensated them. Under their gaze stretched the entire island they had conquered, and around it the ocean sparkled illuminated by the sun's rays. The hour of dusk was approaching, the sky was painted purple with the colors of the sunset. With the monocle fixed to his left eye, the one-eyed man then let out a cry and pointed with his finger to a distant point on the horizon where the sea was burning. It was the Eldorado, their galleon, which had been engulfed in flames; set on fire by the revenge of the natives or by some accident due to carelessness? A firework! The fire quickly reached the powder magazine, with a deafening bang, the ship was thrown into the air. They were left as a pillar of salt to watch his remains fall into the water and sink; a more evocative sight than destruction is not offered to the eyes of man. But there was no time for tears. They had already climbed to the Top of the World. There was nothing left for them but to descend.
VIII. The City of the Prophet
They descended in a thick fog. On the other side, another village awaited them; only in size it differed from the others. Equally poor, equally dirty, but a little larger. It was built on the banks of a river that flowed into the creek, dragging lava and dry branches in its muddy waters. They conquered it with the same ease, but this time they killed no one, except the old men and those who fell in battle. It was not out of pity or mercy, however, that they spared their lives; they took the males as slaves, the women as concubines. By force at first, then out of habit, they slept with them and sowed a race of half-breeds. Under the threat of weapons, they forced the men to build a settlement to house the families they had created. They named it Eldorado in honor of the Prophet. Its houses were wooden, supported by strong beams, the temple in the center of the square was made of stone. Opposite it they erected a huge statue of him. They wanted to make it out of gold, but since no gold was found, the last of the blacksmiths made it out of bronze. With time and rain it completely oxidized.
The years passed, the conquerors grew old and died one after the other, they were buried in the foreign soil that became their own. The City of the Prophet grew and prospered, two centuries later it had become an important naval hub. From its port, caravels transported goods to the ends of the earth, bananas, cocoa, tobacco, sugar, slaves. Their descendants became rich, the gold that their ancestors did not find underground, was brought to them by trade and slavery. In place of the old wooden houses, colonial-style mansions are being built, the ancient church was demolished to make way for an imposing cathedral with its steeples touching the clouds.
Only the statue of the Prophet has remained untouched over the years. Today, newlyweds pose under its shadow for their wedding photos, as is the custom to cement their marriage. Couples in love meet at its pedestal, street vendors hawk their wares, souvenirs, postcards, oil paintings, and tourists flock to buy them. But he, haughty, pays them no attention. His gaze is fixed straight ahead and with his finger outstretched, he points towards the Future.
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On the press: in 2017, an archaeological excavation on the banks of the river discovered a gold deposit. Initial estimates by geologists indicate that it is exploitable.
photo graham5399, https://pixabay.com
