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Popol Vuh Before the world was created, Calm and Silence were the great kings that ruled. Nothing existed, there was nothing. Things had not yet been drawn together, the face of the earth was unseen. There was only motionless sea, and a great emptiness of sky. There were no men anywhere, or animals, no birds or fish, no crabs. Trees, stones, caves, grass, forests, none of these existed yet. There was nothing that could roar or run, nothing that could tremble or cry in the air. Flatness and emptiness, only the sea, alone and breathless. It was night; silence stood in the dark. In this darkness the Creators waited, the Maker, Tepeu, Gucumatz, the Forefathers. They were there in this emptiness, hidden under green and blue feathers, alone and surrounded with light. They are the same as wisdom. They are the ones who can conceive and bring forth a child from nothingness. And the time had come. The Creators were bent deep around talk in the darkness. They argued, worried, sighed over what was to be. They planned the growth of the thickets, how things would crawl and jump, the birth of man. They planned the whole creation, arguing each point until their words and thoughts crystallized and became the same thing. Heart of Heaven was there, and in the darkness the creation was planned. Then let the emptiness fill! they said. Let the water weave its way downward so the earth can show its face! Let the light break on the ridges, let the sky fill up with the yellow light of dawn! Let our glory be a man walking on a path through the trees! "Earth!" the Creators called. They called only once, and it was there, from a mist, from a cloud of dust, the mountains appeared instantly. At this single word the groves of cypresses and pines sent out shoots, rivulets ran freely between the round hills. The Creators were struck by the beauty and exclaimed, "It will be a creation that will mount the darkness!" The Creators then asked, "Will this silence reign under the trees forever?" Suddenly, there were the Guardians of the Woods, the small animals, the little men-sprites of the mountains, deer, birds, jaguars, snakes, Guardians of the Thickets. Then the Creators gave these creatures homes: "You, deer, you will walk on all fours among greenness, and sleep in the fields on the shoulders of the rivers, or in the cover of ravines. Keep company with the thicket and the pasture, but go to the woods to mate. You, birds, take the air. Go live in the trees and vines, make nests there and mate there, fill the air with your children. They spoke to each creature in turn, assigning each a place, and the birds and animals, snakes and jaguars, went looking for their nests and homes. With their places established, the Forefathers asked them to speak. "Cry, warble, call!" the Creators told them. "Each of you in your own language. Speak to us!" But a great din arose from their throats. "No!" cried the Creators, "Call our names, raise our names with your voices, Huracan, Chipi-Caculha, Raxa-Caculha, Heart of Heaven, Heart of Earth, Creator, Maker, Forefathers, let your praise fall like rain!" But the birds and animals could not speak like men. The noise only rose in pitch. They could only scream

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and hiss and cackle. The birds and animals were deaf to each other's words, they were mute in the name of the Creators. When the Creators saw this, they knew that something must be done. They spoke to the jaguar and the turkey and the others, and said, "We have changed our minds. Because you cannot talk, you shall be destroyed. You may keep your places, your nests in the trees, your homes by the rivers, but since you cannot call our names, we will create more obedient creatures who will. Your destiny has been changed: your flesh will be torn." The animals of the earth were sacrificed, condemned to be killed and eaten. "We need to try again! Dawn draws near!" And the Creators tried again, using clay to make man's flesh. But instantly they saw that it would come to nothing. It was a soft thing, it melted away. Immobile, without strength, it could not even turn its head to look behind. Its vision was runny, it spoke with a mind of mud. It melted into the water. The Creators knew that these creatures would never have sons, and their destruction was as quick as their creation. "But what can we do?" they cried. "Who will worship and sustain us?" Again they bent their heads together. At last they decided to go to the soothsayers, the Grandparents of the Day and the Dawn. The old man was the one who could tell the future by throwing beans. The old woman was divine, a priestess and sorceress. They talked also with the Master of Emeralds, the sculptor who carves beautiful jewelry and gourds. The Creators asked them about making men out of wood. "What do you think?" they asked, "will men of wood worship us? Throw your red beans, decide if we should make men by carving their eyes and mouth on a stick of wood." The soothsayers squatted down and threw the beans and grains of corn. "Fate! Creature!" the old man and woman called, "Get together, beans, lock each other in your arms, speak to us! Tell us if the Creators should carve the wood. Tell us if men carved of sticks will worship and sustain us when the light comes. Beans, fate, creature! Come together, take each other! Heart of Heaven, let the truth be spoken!" Everything then stopped. The corn lay quiet with their message, the soothsayers squatted unmoving. Then the old ones spoke: "The voices of the wooden men shall echo across the earth!" Instantly, the wooden figures were made. They were slender and looked like men. They cooked and washed in the river, they hunted in the forest with their dogs, they brought down the trees to plant corn. They had sons and daughters, and soon were everywhere on the earth. But the men of wood did not have souls or minds, and they wandered aimlessly. When they spoke, their faces were blank, their hands and feet were weak. They were without blood's flower, no moisture, no flesh, dry and yellow, and they no longer remembered Heart of Heaven. And since those who had made them and cared for them did not enter their thoughts, they were reduced to splinters. First, a flood was loosed on the wooden men by Heart of Heaven, a heavy resin fell from the sky. The eagle flashed down out of the heavens to gouge out their eyes, the vampire bat winged in to claim their beads, the tapir came to break and mangle their bones, and the jaguar, always waiting, took his chance. Heart of Heaven was not remembered, and the face of the earth was darkened; black rain fell day and night.

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Then everything began to rise up against the wooden men. Sticks, pots and pans, large and small animals, everything. "You have eaten us, and now we shall eat you," said the birds and the dogs that were kept to be eaten. The grinding stones spoke in rage: "What torture you caused us! Crush, crush, dawn and dusk our faces went crush, crush, crush! Now you are not men, it's our turn to grind you." The hunting dogs spoke: "We hunted for you and guarded your house, but did you feed us? Did you think that we liked staying out in the rain? You were too busy for us, and kept a stick ready in case we came near your food. Why didn't you think about your future? But it's too late now, because the sticks are going to be between our teeth!" The dogs leaped on the stick men, knocking them down, tearing their faces. The griddles and pots attacked them: "Oh, the pain and suffering you have caused us! Our mouths blackened with soot, our faces blackened. Every day you threw us on the fire as if we felt no pain! Now you shall feel the same burning!" The wooden men were trapped. The firestones hurled themselves at the wooden men that ran past them, crashing into their heads. Splintering and burning, shrinking from blows, scurrying and falling, they ran looking for safety. Some climbed to the tops of the houses, but the houses tossed them from their backs. Some tried to climb trees; the trees threw them down. The caverns closed their mouths to those who tried to enter, and the wooden men were destroyed. Only a few, with mouths and faces mingled, escaped the spears of water and the splintering blows. Most of them became monkeys.

Calm once again returned to the face of the earth. There was stillness in the clouds. The animals roamed the forest paths. There was sky and earth, but the faces of the sun and moon were covered. But amid this serenity, there was a giant called Seven-Macaws who was swollen with pride. I am sun and moon! I am the light!" he bragged. "My splendor knows no shore. My eyes are made of bright silver, my teeth are perfect stone. They shine like the face of the sky. My shiny nose is as beautiful as the moon. When I walk before my silver throne, the face of the earth is lighted. I am the sun and moon for my human servants!" But Seven-Macaws was not really the sun; he was only self love clothed in feathers and riches. He could see only the horizon, not the vast world. This was while the face of the moon and the stars were still hidden, and this is why the giant was vain. He couldn't even imagine real splendor and only wanted to exalt himself, to dominate others. But his rule was short.

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The giant's downfall was caused by two brothers, twins named Hunahpu and Xbalanque. They were sorcerers and gods. When they heard of the misery that the giant had brought about, and shamefully so under the eyes of Heart of Heaven, they decided to make him pay. "This is not the way it should be," they said. "He is too proud of his riches, of his green stones and silver, of his emeralds. We will topple the throne of this proud one, and this shall be the fate of any man who becomes vain because of power and riches." Seven-Macaws had a wife and two sons, and the twin Heroes knew that they too would have to be dealt with. The oldest son was Zipacna, the one who created the mountains in the time before the first dawn, and played ball with them. His brother was Cabracan, Earthquake, the one who moved the mountains. He made the large and small mountains tremble. The two sons were like their father: Seven-Macaws said, "Listen, I am the sun!" His son Zipacna said: I made the earth!" His other son, Cabracan, said: I shake the sky and make the earth tremble!" The sons assumed the greatness that their father assumed. Their behavior was evil to the boys, who decided to destroy them. Seven-Macaws loved the fruit of the sweet nantze tree. He had a favorite large tree, and each day walked there from his house, climbed to the top, and sat in the uppermost branches eating the sweet cherries. Hunahpu and Xbalanque knew this. They waited there hidden in the bushes, and when the giant started to eat, they took careful aim, and shot him with their blowguns. Struck in the jaw, the giant fell screaming from the top of the tree. Hunahpu quickly ran to where he was lying groaning on the ground, but he couldn't overpower him, and the giant grabbed the boy's arm and ripped it from his shoulder. Hunahpu screamed in pain, and Xbalanque came to his rescue. The young gods then just kept out of the giant's reach, and let him trudge off toward home carrying Hunahpu's arm. The giant arrived home with an aching jaw. What's wrong my Lord?" cried his wife as he came through the door. "What do you think?" replied the giant. "Those two devils have dislocated my jaw with their blowguns. My teeth are killing me." He took the arm and hung it over the fire. "That devil will be here looking for his arm," he said. Hunahpu and Xbalanque decided to change their strategy. They went to the house of a humble old couple who lived nearby, They found the old ones sitting in their house. The old man's head was snow-white, and both were bent double with time. The Youths explained that they had come for help. "Come with us to the house of Seven-Macaws," they asked. "You can tell him that we are your grandchildren and that we live with you, and go around asking alms with you because our mother and father are dead. You can tell him that you know how to cure painful teeth by removing the worm." The old couple agreed and the boys followed behind them to the giant's house. They found Seven-Macaws sitting on his throne holding his jaw. "Where do you come from, grandparents?" he asked the old couple. "Are these your sons?"

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"We come from hunger, kind sir," they answered, and these poor things are our grandsons, and we share what we are given with them. We take the worm from teeth, cure eyes and set bones." "I still have some good luck left!" exclaimed the giant. "Let me tell you, I suffer from my teeth day and night. Because of my teeth and my eyes I can't be calm or sleep. It is because two demons shot me in the jaw with their blowguns while I wasn't looking. I can't eat or sleep, or do anything. Have pity on me and cure me." "It's the worm that works in your teeth," the old one said. "Your suffering will end when we pull them, and put others in their place." "But my teeth are my glory! I am a lord because of my teeth. My teeth and my eyes are my ornaments. Whatever you do, please, don't take them!" "Don't worry," the grandparents told the giant, "we will replace them with good teeth of ground bone. You will look as noble as before." But instead of replacing them with ground bone after they were pulled, they put in grains of white corn. The lord's face instantly sagged, his cheeks became hollow, his nose sharp as a razor. They then removed the rest of the pearly teeth. Finally, they even cured the giant's eyes, piercing his pupils. Thus they took all his riches. The giant felt nothing any more. He only looked on while all of the things he was so proud of were taken. The healers took the emeralds and precious stones that had been his earthly pride. In the end Seven-Macaws died, and out of sorrow his wife Chimalmat died also. The old miraculous couple then went over to the fire and took down the arm and gave it back to Hunahpu. Back in place, the arm worked as well as before. And having carried out the orders of Heart of Heaven, the two youths turned to other things. Zipacna was the eldest son of Seven-Macaws. One day, he was bathing in the river when four hundred young men passed by, dragging a huge log to use as a ridge pole to support their house. With tremendous effort they slowly made their way along the riverbank. Zipacna, seeing their muscles tremble, left the water and said, "Let me help you, boys." Zipacna lifted the log easily, and carried it on his shoulder to where the four hundred boys were building their house. He laid the log down, and was about to leave, when the four hundred boys stopped him: "Have you a mother or father?" they asked. "No. Neither mother nor father." "Then why don't you stay with us?" the four hundred boys asked the giant. "We can hire you to do our work, and we'll take care of you. Tomorrow you can go out and cut another log, and bring it to build with. You seem like a good person, and we would be happy to have you with us." But aside, the four hundred boys asked themselves, "How can we kill this giant?" The four hundred young men had a single thought of murder. They agreed to roll the log into a pit which they would get the giant to dig, killing him

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there in his own grave. But of course Zipacna knew that the four hundred boys wanted to kill him, so, as he dug the main shaft of the pit, he carved out a pocket to one side, a hole in which to save himself. "How far down are you?" the boys called down from the edge of the pit. "Just about there," Zipacna answered, not digging his own grave as the boys thought, but opening a place where he could live. At last he shouted from the depths of the pit: "All right, it's finished!" The boys quickly rolled the log into the pit, and listened with their hands covering their faces as it fell soundlessly. Then they heard a great thud, and a scream deep in the pit. "It worked! It worked!" the four hundred shouted, "We killed him! We would have suffered if he had gone on with his work. He was too strong. Already he was in our way. But now we have to keep a close eye on this pit," they said to one another, "to make sure that he is dead. If he is, the ants will come. We'll make chicha, and at the end of three days, if all still goes well, we shall celebrate the construction of our new house." Crouched in his pit, the giant heard everything. The next day millions of ants came, coming and going under the log. To fool the boys, Zipacna snipped his hair and bit off pieces of fingernail, and gave them to the ants to carry up out of the pit. When the boys saw the ants passing carrying hair and fingernails, they were joyful. "That devil has perished!" they exclaimed. The next day the boys celebrated, believing the giant to be dead. It was an orgy; the house rang with laughter and cries. The boys drank and drank, staggering around, becoming stupefied. They drank until they knew nothing. Then the giant crawled from the pit. He let the house crash down on them. All of the four hundred boys were killed—not one escaped. They ascended to the heavens, and became the group of stars called Motz. When Hunahpu and Xbalanque heard that the giant had killed their friends the four hundred boys, they were filled with rancor. The giant was in the habit of spending the nights carrying mountains from one place to another on his back, and the day hunting for fish and crab. The twins knew that he especially loved crab, so they went to the river and taking a large leaf, they arranged it over a rock to look like a crab. They added claws made of other leaves, and put this mock crab at the bottom of a cave at the foot of the mountain called Meaguan. They then went looking for the giant, and found him searching for crab along the river, as they knew be would be. "Hey, young man," they called, "what are you doing?" "Just hunting for food," Zipacna answered. "What kind of food?" "Fish and crabs. But I haven't caught a thing in two days! I'm dying of hunger! "

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"We saw a giant crab not far from here," the boys said. "We tried to catch him, but he pinched us. We gave up, but you might be able to catch him." "Oh, please," begged the giant. "Come with me and show me where it is. You can hunt birds along the way. I'll show you where to find them." Convinced by the giant's meekness, the boys led him to the mountain. "There it is!" they said, pointing into the cavern. "You'll have to crawl down there to get it, but be careful that it doesn't bite you the way it bit us!" "It looks delicious," said the giant; "my mouth is watering." He lay down on his back and carefully slipped headfirst down into the cavern toward the crab. When only his feet were showing, the great mountain slid slowly down on his chest. By magic the giant became stone. He never returned. The third arrogant one was Cabracan, who said, "I demolish the mountains!" Heart of Heaven heard this, and angrily spoke to the two brothers Hunahpu and Xbalanque: "This pride is outrageous! This is not the way it should be on earth! Lure the giant to where the sun rises." The brothers received the command knowing that this giant was wrong like the two others in exalting his powers and grandeur. "We will do it," they answered. "It is true that you exist, you who are at peace, Heart of Heaven!" The boys found the giant busily shaking the mountains. He just tapped his foot and the mountains crumbled. "Where are you off to, young man?" they asked. "Nowhere," the giant answered. "I'm moving the mountains, leveling them to the ground forever. And who are you?" "We don't have names," the boys answered. "We are just poor hunters with blowguns and traps. We have nothing; we just wander through the hills. But today we have seen a large mountain and have come to tell you. It's over there, against the red sky, and it's so large that it looks over the heads of the other mountains. This might be the mountain that you couldn't flatten!" "Where is this mountain?" cried the giant. "Show me the road! I'll crumble it in a second!" "We'll show you, if you want," the boys said. "We can go that way to hunt birds." So off they went toward the sunset. The giant was surprised to see the boys shoot birds by simply blowing air through their blowguns. When they had knocked several birds from the branches, the boys stopped and quickly gathered sticks and built a fire. Before they put the birds on to roast, they rubbed some of them with white lime cement. They

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thought of giving the giant earth, to bring him down to earth. The birds turned a golden brown turning over the hot coals. Fat dripped and sizzled. The Smasher of Mountains, watching the birds roast, felt a rumbling in his stomach. "How about a little piece of those lovely birds?" be asked. The three ate together, and the boys gave the giant the birds covered with lime. When they finished, they set off toward the East. As they walked, the giant started to fall behind the boys. His hands felt weak, and his legs started to feel loose, as though he had run a long distance. He could do nothing to the mountains. Finally, he fell down and couldn't get up. The boys tied his hands behind his back, ran the rope around his neck and feet, and then threw him to the ground. They buried the giant where he fell.

The father of the boys who defeated the giants was Hun-Hunahpu, and the twins were not his only children. Hun-Hunahpu had two other sons, Humbatz and Hunchouen. These sons were very wise. They lived wholesome lives, and were soothsayers. After their mother's death, they had received training in the arts and were flute-players and singers. They could paint, sculpt, and work in silver. Hun-Hunahpu, his brother, Vucub-Hunahpu, and the two young soothsayers would spend the days playing dice and the sacred ball game. This was long before the twin heroes were born. Voc, the hawk, would fly down from Heaven to watch the four playing ball. He would sit on the wall of the ball-court, but never stay long. One day, the Lords of Xibalba overheard them playing. "What is that racket up there? Who is shaking the earth? Is there someone who has no respect for the Lords of Death? Then they can come here! We will show them what it's really like to play ball!" The Underworld was stirred up. These Lords are the ones who cause pain among men. Hun-Came and Vucub-Came are Death, the supreme judges of the Underworld. Death has assistants who come in pairs to do the work of the Underworld. To one pair Death assigns the shedding of blood, to another pair the work of staining men's faces yellow, causing them to swell until pus gushes from their legs. To the two Lords who carry staffs of bone is assigned the work of making men waste away to nothing, until they die, more stick than man. To the Filth Maker and the Bringer of Misery is assigned the task of bringing disaster on men making their way home. Someone would be found dead of some wound, lying on his back, sometimes even just outside his own door. Death assigned sudden death to two Lords who grabbed men on the road, squeezing their throats and chests until they vomited blood and died with blood streaming from nose and mouth. All these Lords of the Underworld gathered to decide what to do about the offense done to them by the ball-players running above. They decided that they wanted the playing gear of the ball-players the leather pads, collars and gloves, their fancy headdresses and masks. The Lords called the owls to them. One owl was as swift as a flying arrow, one had only one leg, the Macaw Owl had a red back, and the fourth owl

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was only a winged head. "Go, Headmen," the Lords told the owls, "and call Hun-Hunahpu and Vucub-Hunahpu. Tell them to come with you, that the Lords of Death have summoned them. Tell them we are amazed by their ball-playing, and that for our own joy they must come and play with us. Tell them to bring all their playing gear, even their rubber balls. Tell them to come quickly." The owls rose quickly and flew to the spot where the men were playing ball, and delivered the message. "Do the Lords of Death really want us?" "So they said," answered the owls. "They also said to bring your playing gear, and ball." I guess we must come then," said the father and uncle, "but first let us say goodbye to our mother." They found their mother weaving. "The Lords of Death have called us," they told her, "but don't worry, we shall return." They climbed up and put their ball up into the rafters as a pledge. Xmucame burst into tears and moaned, but they comforted her. "Please, Mother, don't worry, we are going but we aren't dead yet!" To their sons they said, "Humbatz and Hunchouen, keep playing the flute and singing. Keep your grandmother's house and heart warm." The men set off behind the messengers on the road to the Underworld. They traveled down steep stairs, and came to the banks of a river that flowed swiftly among thorny jicaro trees. They passed unharmed, and came to a river of blood. They didn't drink, and passed over this river and another safely. Finally they arrived at the crossroads. Before them stretched roads in the four directions, each a different color. There was a red road, a black one, and white and yellow roads. As the two men stood and wondered which road to take, the black road spoke to them: I am the one that you must take." Already they were defeated by the Lords of Xibalba. When they arrived at the chamber of the Lords of Death, they found two figures seated close to the door. "Greetings, Hun-Came. How are you, Vucub-Came?" they saluted the seated men. The Lords of Death, further back in the room, burst into wild laughter. "Those are only wooden figures!" they cried in laughter. "But never mind," they said, "have a seat so we can talk about tomorrow's game." But when the men sat down, they found the stone bench was red hot. They jumped up, and the Lords again howled with laughter. Tears ran from their eyes, they doubled up with laughter, laughing until their bones ached. All the Lords of the Underworld loved the joke. "Tomorrow," they said, wiping the tears from their eyes, "prepare your mask, collar and gloves. But for tonight, you can stay in that stone house over there. Somebody will bring you a resin stick to burn, and tobacco to smoke." The brothers were sent to the House of Gloom, the place where no light ever shone. The House of Gloom was not the only house of punishment in the Underworld. There was the House of Cold, where an unbearable wind bowled incessantly. In another house jaguars paced about snarling, or rolled playfully on their backs. In the House of

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Knives lived sharp, pointed daggers who stood silent and still or grated against each other. The Torches of the Underworld are made of stone, and are sacrificial knives. The men entered the House of Gloom and squatted in the heavy darkness. Outside, the Lords of Death talked in low voices. "Let us sacrifice them tomorrow," were their words. Death's messengers found the two men squatting in a corner. "These are from the Lords of Death," the messengers said, giving the brothers the resinous pine that was used for a torch, and the rolled tobacco. Lighted, the pine sticks broke the dark. "They told us to tell you," the messengers said, "that these lighted sticks and cigars must not be burned up. Bring them back whole at dawn." But the men burned the sticks for light, and the two smoked their tobacco. At dawn, the brothers came out of the House of Gloom. The Lords of Death were there waiting. "Where is the tobacco? Where are my sticks of fat pine I gave you last night?" "They are gone, my Lord." "Then today is your last day. You will be broken into pieces, your faces will stay hidden in this place!" The Lords of Death sacrificed the two brothers. They put the headless body of Hun-Hunahpu beside his brother in the grave. They took the head of Hun-Hunahpu to the edge of town, and threw it in the first barren tree that they saw. Instantly, the tree was covered with fruit, yellow gourds, the hollow fruit of the jicaro tree. The people of Xibalba came to see what had happened. They were amazed to find this strange tree so ripe with hollow fruit. Even though they looked and looked, they couldn't find the head of Hun-Hunahpu among the graveyard of the branches. A skull was like this fruit. The head never appeared again, it was fruit. Everyone thought so who came to stare, searching the branches for the head of Hun-Hunahpu. The Lords of Death judged the tree miraculous, and said, "Let no one pick this fruit, or linger here beneath these no longer barren branches."

A girl heard of this tree and came to see for herself. She was the daughter of Gathered Blood, one of the Lords of the Underworld. Her name was Xquic, little blood, woman's blood. She came and stood near the tree and gazed up into its branches. "Such strange fruit," she murmured. "It's impossible that I should die for picking one." Then the skull that nestled in the graveyard of the branches spoke: "What do you want? Skulls are the fruit of this tree. Is that what you want, a skull? "Yes, give me one," the girl answered. "All right," said the skull, "reach up here." The girl reached her band upward, ready to catch the fruit. The skull let a few drops of spittle fall directly into her palm. She looked quickly into the palm of her hand, but the spittle had disappeared into her flesh. "In my saliva and spittle," the voice again came from the tree, "I have given you my

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descendants. My head has a different look now without flesh, for the beauty of all men lies in their flesh. When death takes a handsome prince, men are frightened by his bones. But descendants are saliva and spit. Saliva and spit are the sons of kings, and when they die they keep their substance. The king or soothsayer or lawyer leaves his image to his son or daughter, and this I have left to you. Now go to the surface of the world and keep your life. Believe in my words, and they will be true." All that these two did together was under the direction of Huracan, Chipi-Caculha, and Raxa-Caculha. The girl returned home, sons in her belly conceived of spittle. And thus Hunahpu and Xbalanque were conceived. One day, her father noticed her roundness. He went to the Lords. "My daughter is pregnant, Sirs," be told them. "She's a useless little whore." "At least question her," advised the Lords. "Search her mouth for truth. If she doesn't confess, punish her. Send her far into the hills to be sacrificed." Gathered Blood returned home to question his daughter. "I want a direct answer," he told her. "Who is the father of the children that you carry?" "I have no child, father," the girl answered. "I haven't yet known the face of a man." "A real whore!" the father exploded. "Not another word! Lord Messenger!" he called to the owls. "Take her. Come back with a bowl containing her deceitful heart." The four owls took the bowl and a sacrificial knife of flint. They, lifted the girl in their arms, and set out. Along the way the girl spoke to the owls. "Oh, messengers!" she said, I can't believe you will kill me! I'm innocent. What I carry in my stomach is no disgrace, it's a miracle! I became pregnant standing by the magic tree. I can't believe that you would sacrifice me!" "But what can we bring in place of your heart?" asked the owls. "You heard your father's command! Do your duty, he said, bring her heart to me. We can't take back an empty bowl. We don't want to kill you, but what can we do?" "My heart does not belong to them!" the girl answered. "Don't let them force you to take it. You don't belong here yourselves. Why should you be forced to kill men? The time will come when I will defeat the Lords of Death. The time will come when the real criminals will be at your mercy. Come with me. On earth you will have all that belongs to you. You will be loved there." Just then they were passing a tree from which a red sap flowed. Seeing this the girl stopped. "Here," she said, "fill the bowl with the red sap from this tree. That will satisfy the Lords." "We shall do it," the owls said, "and we shall go with you to the Upperworld." The red sap gushed out of the tree. The owls filled the bowl. The sap looked exactly like blood. It glistened red as it flowed into the bowl, clotting in the shape of a heart. The tree itself glowed radiantly as the owls and the girl stood there gathering the sap. From that day

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on the tree was called the Blood Tree. While the girl traveled on toward the upper regions, the owls returned with the sap for the Lords of Death. The Lords were assembled, waiting, when the owls returned. "Have you finished?" they asked. "It is finished," the owls replied. "Here is the girl's heart." "Let's have a look," said Hun-Came, and the bowl broke as he grabbed it in his eager fingers, and the red blood leaked in a stream. "Stir up the fire," he said, "put it on the coals." As soon as it was on the fire, and the wet smoke began to rise, all the Lords of the Underworld drew close and began to sniff. To them the fragrance of the heart was very, very sweet. As the Lords of Death sat deep in thought, the owls rose as one body and flew from the abyss, earthbound to serve their new mistress in the upper regions.

When the girl arrived at the house of Hun-Hunahpu, the grandmother and the two boys were there. Seeing the old woman, the girl said, I have come, Mother. I am your daughter." Xmucame looked shocked, and seeing the swollen stomach of the girl, she asked, "Who are you? Where are my sons?" I have come to tell you," answered the girl. I am your daughter and belong to Hun-Hunahpu. He and Vucub-Hunahpu are not dead, they live here in me," she said, touching her stomach. "Your sons will return to you, you will see their image in what I bring you." But the old woman was caught in disbelief, and became furious. "What you carry is a disgrace!" she said. "Your full womb is the full fruit of disgrace! My sons died in Xibalba. Do you see these two boys? They are the sons of Hun-Hunahpu. Here we live, and live alone. That's not a grandchild of mine that you carry. We don't want you! Go, get out! My sons are dead!" But above this cloud of doubt, the girl with owls for servants remained bright and still. At last what she had said seemed to break through to the old woman. "I don't believe you," she started, a bit less angry, "but perhaps, just perhaps, you are what you say you are. Go then, and bring food for those who must be fed. Take this net, and fill it with corn. That should be proof enough." The girl agreed, and taking the net, she set out on the path down through the forest to the field that Humbatz and Hunchouen had planted. When she saw the field, her heart dropped. Only one single ear of corn! "Oh, what am I going to do?" she cried out loud. "Did I come to my husband's house for nothing? Where will I get the corn?" Full of

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doubt, she began to beg the Guardian of the Cornfield for help. "Oh, Goddess of Rain," she pleaded, "Oh Goddess of Grain, Goddess of Cacao, You who cook the corn, and You, Guardian of the Cornfield!" She then stood in front of the tall green plant and took the beard of the corn in her hand. She pulled off the red silk of the corn, leaving the single ear untouched. And laying the silk in the net, crisscrossed as if they were ears of corn, the net was filled! All the animals of the field came running. They took the net from the girl, and they came parading down the path—the girl and all the animals carrying her load of corn. When the old woman saw the corn, she was astonished. "Where is this from?" she asked. "Did you pick every last ear of corn?" The old woman stormed down the path to the field, but when she got there she found the single stock of corn still standing. She turned and hurried home. "Now I have proof enough," she said coming up the path. I see that you really are my daughter-in-law. I can't wait for the day to see the faces of the little ones that you carry, those who will also become soothsayers!"

The day came, and Hunahpu and Xbalanque were born in the woods. Their mother had gone alone to have them. Afterwards, they were brought to their grandmother’s house, but it was not a good place for them. They cried and cried, and could not sleep. “Get those brats out of here!” the grandmother cried in exasperation. Their mother took them out and placed them on an ant hill in the forest, and there they slept soundly. They also slept well on thistles. The step-brothers were in the throes of envy over the birth of their brothers. Humbatz and Hunchouen were great musicians and singers, but even though they had grown up in troubled times, and had known trial and want, and had become wise, they fell victim to their passions. The flute players hated their younger brothers with the coals of envy, and hoped that they would die on the ant hills and thistles. Even though these older brothers were diviners and knew everything concerning the birth of Hunahpu and Xbalanque, and that they were to succeed their parents, they were envious. They did not show their wisdom, their hearts were scorched by the coal of envy, and they turned against those who had never done them any harm. They enjoyed the new brothers' misery The older brothers did nothing all day except play their flutes and sing. On the other hand, Hunahpu and Xbalanque spent the day hunting for food. While the grandmother and older brothers ate, the twins would stand framed in the doorway, watching and waiting for leftovers. They would eagerly eat all that was left. But the boys were not angry. They understood their duty; they understood everything. Even without the payment of love from their grandmother, they brought food each day. One day, however, the twins came home empty-handed. Humbatz and Hunchouen sat outside,

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playing the flute. When they saw that the boys were without birds, they called their grandmother. "Where are the birds?" yelled Xmucame in a fury. "Grandmother," replied the boys, "our birds are caught in the branches of the trees. We can't get them down. Tell our brothers to help us." The young heroes planned to overcome their ill-wishing step-brothers. "We shall only change their natures," they agreed. "They wanted us to die, and they believe in their hearts that we have only come to be their servants. We shall teach them a lesson." The four of them set off down through the forest. When they got to the foot of the Yellow Wood Tree, they stopped. There were millions of birds singing in the branches, and the stepbrothers were amazed. Not one struck bird had fallen from the tree. "They do not fall!" said the boys to their elder brothers, " you have to climb up there and get them." Humbatz and Hunchouen started climbing, but when they got up into the tree, the trunk grew, the tree became larger. The stepbrothers were filled with fear. The trunk grew and grew until the tree was gigantic, and the stepbrothers were far from the ground. They called to their brothers to help them down. Hunahpu and Xbalanque yelled up to them to loosen their clothes. "Tie your loincloths lower, below your stomach. Let the long ends hang down behind. Now pull it, you will be able to walk around easily." As the stepbrothers pulled the dangling cloth, it became a tail In their hands; suddenly they were monkeys. They hopped among the branches, they swung from tree to tree. Hunahpu and Xbalanque left them there and returned home. When they saw their grandmother they said, " Grandmother! A strange thing has happened: all at once the faces of our brothers became the faces of animals!" At these words Xmucame grew sad. "If you have done something to your brothers," she said, "you have hurt me as well." "No, Grandmother, don't worry, you will see them again. We can call them here. But! you must be careful not to laugh at them when they come. And believe us, it will be hard enough not to laugh!" The boys sat down and started playing the Monkey Song on their flutes. They sang and played the drum, sitting by their grandmother, calling their brothers out from the woods. After a while, Humbatz and Hunchouen appeared. They came dancing up the path. Their faces were grotesque and their dance hilarious, and as the old woman watched, she burst into laughter. When her laughter broke through the air, the monkeys spun around and dashed into the forest. "Now Grandmother! you must control yourself! We can only call our brothers out of the forest four times, and we have already wasted one of the chances. Let's try it again." Again, playing their flutes and drums, they sang the Song of the Monkeys, and again the step-brothers came. They came all the way into the courtyard of the house, dancing and swinging their broad bottoms, rolling their hips, around and around, shaking their arms, trying to make laughter by raising their skinny tails to the sky so that the mouths of their stomachs showed. The old woman covered her smile, and the rolling dancing went on until she finally roared with laughter, and the monkeys broke for the forest. "Ah, little Grandmother! Again you chased them off. We'll try once more. Now try to control yourself." Again the music summoned the monkeys. They danced and came all the way into the kitchen, around and around they went, climbing and dancing. Xmucame kept

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her laughter until she saw the red light that their eyes threw off and saw them scrub their noses and frighten each other by making faces. When she saw that, she could contain herself no longer and roared with laughter. The monkeys fled. And though the boys tried again, playing and singing, the monkeys fled deeper and deeper into the forest. The old woman's laugh banned the faces of the elder brothers. Humbatz and Hunchouen were musicians and singers, and were called in worship and sacrifice by old people, and by singers and musicians, painters and craftsmen. They had become arrogant, and had abused their brothers, and they were changed into monkeys.

Hunahpu and Xbalanque then started to work. "Don't grieve, Little Grandmother,'' the boys said, "we shall take our brothers' place. We are off to plant the corn." The boys asked for their lunch to be brought to the field, and with their blowguns, their axe and pick on their shoulders, they set off down the path toward the cornfield, Reaching the field, they drove their pick into the ground. The pick started to work all by itself; it plunged and rose, rose and plunged. Thistles and brambles flew while the pick worked breaking and tumbling the soil. The boys laid the axe in the arms of a tree, and it too started to work by itself. Branches fell, there was a shower of falling vines, trees toppled over at one swift blow from the axe. While the tools were working, Hunahpu and Xbalanque taught the turtledove to watch for the grandmother who would be bringing the food. "When you see her coming, sing," they told the turtledove, "and we shall attach ourselves to the pick and axe." So while the tools worked, the boys shot their blowguns and waited for lunch. When they heard the song of the dove, one rubbed his face and arms with dirt; the other threw chips in his hair, and they pretended to be working. Xmucame found the poor boys slaving. The two ate their lunch with gusto, and soon afterward returned home stretching their aching bodies, saying that they were exhausted. A strange thing happened. Early the next morning, the two brothers again took their tools and set out for the cornfield. But when they arrived, to their great astonishment, they found the earth covered again. The trees and vines stood in their old places; bramble and thistle again locked tangled hands across the forest floor. "What kind of trick is this?" exclaimed the boys. "I'll bet that all the birds and animals that live here are behind this. It's probably their night's work that has covered our day's work!" The boys had no choice but to set the tools to work again, and again it rained vines and the earth flew, and again the field was prepared. Walking home, the boys discussed what they could do. They decided to sneak back that night and surprise the ones who were returning the trees and thistles to their cornfield. "Have you ever heard of such a thing?" they asked their grandmother, reaching home. "When we returned to the field today we found our clearing once again stubble and thick forest! just think, all our work lost. Somebody is making a fool of us. But tonight we will find out who!"

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After dark they returned and hid in the brush beside the field. Just after midnight the boys heard voices. "Rise up, trees! Rise up, vines!" The boys strained their eyes to see in the dark, and they could make out figures approaching. "Rise up, trees! Rise up, vines!" It was all the animals! One of each kind was there, large and powerful, small and sleek, each speaking its own language: "Rise up, trees! Rise up, vines!" As the animals passed by Hunahpu and Xbalanque in the bushes, they tried to grab them. The first to pass were puma and jaguar, but they were too fast to catch. The deer and rabbit passed by, but the boys only got hold of their tails, which pulled off in their hands. That is why those animals have short tails. The mountain cat, the coyote, the wild boar, all of these got away, and the boys were furious. At last, out of the dark, a small creature came hopping, the rat. The boys grabbed him and wrapped him in a cloth. They squeezed his head, and tried to strangle him. They burned his tall in the fire, and now the rat's tail has no hair. They tried to poke out his eyes. After all this, the, rat finally cried out: "Stop! You are not meant to kill me, and it is not your business to plant the corn! " "What? What are you saying?" asked the surprised boys. "Loosen me a little and give me something to eat. I'm starving. I have something important to tell you." "We shall give you food," replied the boys, "but first, what do you have to tell us?" "It is this: your father's ball hangs hidden in the rafters of the house. Those who died in the Underworld left their ball behind, but your grandmother has kept it hidden from you, thinking that the ball was the cause of your father's death." "Could this be true?" wondered the boys aloud to the rat, overjoyed with the news. "Then, rat, we are grateful. This will be your food: the corn, the chili-seeds, the beans, and the cacao. All that is stored or forgotten is also yours. Eat well, friend." "Wonderful, boys," said the rat, "but what if your grandmother sees me eating this food?" "Don't worry, rat, we are here and know what to say to our grandmother. Come on, let's go see about this ball." By the time they got home it was noon. One of the brothers went into the corner of the house and let the rat out of his shirt. The rat climbed up into the rafters. Neither the grandmother nor mother noticed anything. "Grandmother, we are starving!" they said. "Grind some corn, make tortillas and a chili sauce." The grandmother did this, and brought the boys a bowl of soup. She gave them tortillas and chili. As the boys began to eat, they said, "Grandmother, will you bring us some water, we are dying of thirst." But the boys had dried up the water that was in the jug, and the grandmother had to go to the stream. They wanted to get rid of her and were not really hungry or thirsty. They looked into their bowls of chili and saw the rat in the reflection, scurrying across the beam overhead. To keep the grandmother away, they sent a

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mosquito to the river to puncture the water jug. The mosquito rammed the jug with his needle beak, and a stream poured from the hole he made. The grandmother could not fill the jug. "Where is the water?!" they asked their mother. "We are dying of thirst. What is taking her so long?" So the mother went out to see what was taking so long, and in the red mirror of their chili bowls the boys saw the rat gnawing at the cord that held the ball in the rafters, Down came the ball, ring, gloves, and leather pads. The boys grabbed them and ran outside, and hid them on the road to the ball-court. Happy with their success, the brothers took their blowguns and walked to the river. There were the mother and grandmother stooping on the riverbank, trying to stop the hole in the water jug. "What's wrong?" they asked. "We gave up waiting for the water." "Just look at this hole in my jug!" complained the grandmother. Instantly the boys stopped up the hole, and the four of them returned to the house with the jug of water, the boys walking before their mother and grandmother. The ball had been found.

The boys took their ball and went to the court where, their father had played. Since the days of Hun-Hunahpu and Vucub-Hunahpu only the stubble and thistle had played there, and the boys started by clearing the field. Finally, like their father, they happily played the sacred game. The earth shook beneath their running feet. Below the earth, the Lords of Death looked around. "Again?" they exclaimed. "Who could it be this time? Who dares disturb us by playing ball above our heads? Maybe Hun-Hunahpu and Vucub-Hunahpu are still alive; maybe it's their pride tromping around up there again." The Lords called their messengers. "Go tell those who play ball up there that the Lords of Death wish to see them. Tell them to come within seven days, and to bring their ball and gear so that we can play together. " The messengers left at once. When they found the broad path that the boys had made, they followed it to the grandmother's house. Inside, they found Xmucame and Xquic eating, slapping tortillas in their hands and cooking them on the flat comal. They were startled by Death's messengers. "Within seven days," the messengers told the grandmother. "Very well, Headmen," answered Xmucame, "they will be there." When they had gone, the old woman cried and moaned. "Just as before," she cried. "Just as before! First the fathers, and now the sons!" At that instant a louse fell from the rafters onto the grandmother's lap. She picked it up, and set it in the palm of her hand. It shook itself, and started to walk. "Could I send you to call my grandchildren from the ball-court, my child?" Xmucame asked the louse. The louse at once jumped from her hand, and inched his way toward the door. As the louse went down the road he met a toad. "Where are you off to?" asked the toad. "I'm going to the ball-court with a message for the boys," answered the louse.

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"At the rate you're traveling," answered the toad, "you'll never get there. Let me swallow you, and we'll go fast." The louse agreed, and the toad swallowed him. After traveling lazily along the road awhile the toad met a white armadillo snake. "Where are you off to, young man?" asked the snake. "To the ball-court. I carry a message in my stomach." "You'll never get there at that slow pace," said the snake, and without another word, he swallowed the toad. From then on, toads were the food of snakes. As the snake hurried down the road, a hawk spied him from a branch. He swooped down and caught the snake with his sharp talons and beak. After swallowing him, he rose heavily and flew to the ball-court. Settling on the cornice he cried, "The-hawk! The-hawk!" The boys, playing ball happily, stopped their game. Who is this? they wondered. They got their blowguns and aimed a ball at the pupil of the bird's eye. The hawk fell from the cornice. The boys ran and picked him up. "What are you doing here?" they asked. I have a message for you in my stomach," the hawk answered. "But first fix my eye!" The boys pinched a little rubber from their ball and put it in the hawk's eye, and the eye was mended. It was sorrel that they used to remove cataracts and cure eyes. When asked what the message was, the hawk vomited the snake. "What is the message, snake?" the boys asked, and the snake vomited the toad. "What is the message, toad?" "The message is in my stomach," answered the toad, shiny in the light. The toad tried to vomit up the louse, but couldn't. He tried and tried, but nothing came up but saliva. The boys became impatient. "What are you up to, liar?" they asked, and gave the toad a kick in the rump. The bone of the toad's haunches cracked from the kick. The toad tried to vomit again, but couldn't. The boys opened his mouth to look inside. There was the louse stuck to the toad's teeth. The louse had only pretended to be swallowed. The toad was tricked, and his food unknown. Now he can only hop along; he is the food of snakes. "Do you have the message, my child?" the boys asked the louse. "Your grandmother said to call you," the louse answered. "The Lords of Death command you to bring your ball and gear within seven days for a little diversion. Your grandmother weeps and moans."

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"Can it be true?" the boys asked each other. And stopping along the way only to pick some reeds, they ran quickly home to say goodbye. They found their grandmother and mother engulfed in tears. Coming in the door they said, "We are on our way to the Underworld!" But seeing the sorrow of their grandmother, they took her hands and said, "Don't cry, Grandmother, we aren't dead yet. We shall leave a sign of our fate behind. Watch these two reeds that we are going to plant. If they dry up, you will know we are dead, but if they sprout again, say to yourselves that we live." The brothers planted the reeds. They did not plant them outside, or in moist soil, but knelt and planted them in the dry soil of the center of the house.

Down the steps to Xibalba the boys quickly went, carrying their blowguns and their ball gear. They passed large flocks of birds and traveled between rivers and ravines. They came to a river of corruption, and a river of blood. The people of the Underworld thought that the boys would be destroyed crossing these rivers, but they crossed easily, walking on their blowguns. When they came to the place where the black, white, red, and yellow roads crossed, the boys divined which to take. They sent their friend the mosquito ahead of them to find out what lay ahead. "Since you are the one who sucks the blood of men walking along paths," they told the mosquito, "go and sting the men of Xibalba." The mosquito flew down the dark road to the Underworld. Entering the house of the Lords of Death, he stung the first person that he saw, a man covered with ornaments sitting near the door. Then he stung the second man sitting there. Neither of these moved or said a word. When the mosquito stung the third man seated further back in the room, the man yelled "ouch," and slapped his neck. "What's wrong, Hun-Came? Did something bite you?" said the fourth person in the room. The mosquito then stung the one who had spoken, and when he in turn yelled "ouch," the next man asked: "What's wrong, Vucub-Came?" The mosquito stung this man as well, and when he yelled, the man next to him asked, "Gathered Blood, what's wrong?" So he flew along the row stinging the seated men until he knew the names of all twelve. The mosquito was a hair plucked from Hunahpu's leg, sent to sting the Lords. The faces of the Lords were thus exposed. When the boys arrived, they walked into the house of the Lords of Death, and said, "What's this? A couple of wooden men waiting here to greet us?" They then walked up to the others, and greeted them each by name. The Lords shuddered one by one as they heard their names pronounced by these strangers. "Sit down!" the Lords commanded, waving to the stone bench.

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"No, thank you," answered the boys, "a hot stone is not our idea of a seat." The Lords of the Underworld were horrified. The two young strangers knew their names, and they couldn't be tricked by the wooden men or by the hot stone. "Well," they said finally, "why don't you take a rest in that house over there. Tomorrow we shall play ball." The boys entered the House of Gloom. Where no light had ever shone, they squatted and waited until messengers entered with cigars and sticks of fat pine. "These are gifts from the Lords," the messengers said, "but they must be returned at dawn." The boys sat in the darkness. Outside, those of the Underworld rejoiced seeing the red lights of the cigars and the burning sticks of pine. They could taste victory! The boys sat in the dark, but they did not spend what was given to them. On their cigars fluttered the red tail feathers of a macaw, on their sticks of fat pine sat their friends the fireflies. The Lords of Death saw these fires and smiled, thinking that the boys would come empty-handed at dawn. When the boys emerged at first light, the cigars and fat pine were unburned. The Lords were baffled. Who could these two be? They all went to the playing field together, and along the way the Lords asked the boys about themselves. The boys answered: "We ourselves do not know who we are, my Lords." At the ball-court they agreed on whose ball to use, and agreed on the terms of the game. The Lords insisted on using their ball, and on playing for the worm, not letting the head of the puma speak as the boys wanted. Starting the play, the Lords of Death threw the ball toward Hunahpu's ring. The ball was still bouncing when the Lords pulled out their sacrificial knives, and moved toward the boys. "What is this?!" exclaimed the boys. "The first throw, and you want to kill us? We thought that you wanted to play ball. Isn't that what your messenger said?" The Lords wanted the boys' death to come quickly, and nothing else, but things couldn't happen that way. The boys moved to leave, but the Lords cried, "No, don't leave. Stay and we will use your ball now." The boys consented, and again they played. This time the boys moved fast, driving their ball through the Lords' ring, and that ended the game. The defeated Lords exchanged glances, and wished that they could kill the boys. Instead, they joined them in the center of the ball-court. "For the morning," the Lords said, "bring us four branches of flowers." "What kinds of flowers?" the boys asked. "Bring us a branch of red chipilli, and a white and yellow branch as well, and a branch of carinimac." The boys agreed calmly, and the bitter hearts of the Lords were dizzy with happiness, for where could these boys get flowers? "You can go to cut them now," the Lords said. "Bring them at dawn." The boys were put into the House of Knives for the night. As they came up the path,

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they could hear the harsh sound of the obsidian knives grating against one another. As they entered, the knives stood watching, hard light sneering from their bodies, ready to tear the boys to shreds. But before they could move, the boys used sharp words on them. "The flesh of all animals is yours!" they said. The knives were instantly calmed; they did not move again. There among the knives, the boys called the cutting ants. When they arrived in long files from out of the walls and under the door, the boys told them to go and bring the flowers that the Lords wanted for the dawn. Of course the Lords of Death suspected some trick and had warned the sentries of the flowers. "Watch our flowers tonight," they said. "Don't let them be stolen by the boys who will come. They can't see in the dark, but beware just the same." The sentries watched all night for the boys. All night they shouted up into the branches of the trees of the garden. "Oh, owl! Oh, owl!" one shouted. "Who? Who?" the other answered. Down below stole the ants. The long line broke into many streams in the garden, a thousand soundless steps moved, cutting flowers that fell soundlessly. They moved silently about carrying their enormous loads in their teeth, while the guards called out into the black night, "Oh, owl! Oh, owl!" and "Who? Who?" The owls did not feel the teeth cutting even their tails and the tips of their wings. The cutting ants returned in a long line through the dark with the fragrant flowers for the House of Knives. When the messengers arrived, the boys came out of the house each carrying two gourds of flowers, bright and dew-wet in the first light. When the Lords saw the boys approaching with flowers, their faces paled. They immediately sent for the sentries. "How is it that you let someone steal our flowers?" they yelled when the sentries arrived. "Look, aren't these ours? Our flowers that you were supposed to watch?" "We watched," the messengers answered, "but we didn't see anything. And look, our own tails suffered too!" In their anger the Lords tore the owls' mouths to teach them to watch better. Thus the mouth of the owl was made divided, cleft. Again that day the boys played ball with the Lords of the Underworld. After several tied games, they put away their gear until the next dawn. The boys were happy. That night the boys went to the House of Cold. There was always a new house of torture. The coldness in that House of Hail, Mansion of Cold, paralyzes the imagination, but the boys worked quickly in the cutting wind and spent the night warmly around a fire of old logs. At the dawn the Lords found them still alive and marveled that the boys could have stood the cold. The boys spent the next night in the House of Jaguars. The ground shook with the snarling and growling of the shut-up beasts. Their red mouths welcomed anyone who came in, their ready teeth stood in greeting. At the sight of the boys, the jaguars crouched and dug in with their hind legs. "Don't bite us!" the boys

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called before the beasts could spring. "Here is what belongs to you," they said, throwing the jaguars bones. The cats pounced on the gift, growling and tearing flesh, cracking the bones with their powerful teeth, the way the Lords of Death had wanted them to crack and grind the bones of the two brothers. The boys came out of the House of Jaguars at dawn. The House of Fire was another place where they were sent. It was one total flame, one single smile of fire. But only coals and wood burned there, and the boys entered the heart of fire unharmed.

In the House of Bats, hundreds of death bats, vampire bats, flew around and around within locked walls. Their power for killing was like a hardened, sharp stick. The boys shrank from this quick death. They at once climbed into their blowguns to be protected. There they couldn't be bitten, and in the round house of their own blowguns they slept. All night the bats darted through the room. The air was filled with the harsh sigh of their wings and the chill of their screams. Toward dawn the boys were awakened by another bat, the Bat of Death that flew out of the sky. A hush fell on the house. The bats were still. "Is it morning?" asked Xbalanque from his blowgun. "I'll take a look,'' answered Hunahpu. The bats were still, silently pressed against the end of Hunahpu's blowgun, waiting. As Hunahpu stuck his head out of the blowgun, it was ripped from his shoulders. There was laughter, then silence. "Hunahpu, what was that? Is it morning, or not?" asked his brother. No answer. "Hunahpu, what's happened?" Xbalanque fell silent and did not move. We are finished now, he thought to himself. Tile Lords of Xibalba received tile head of Hunahpu with laughter and shouts. They danced and ran together as a crowd to the ball-court, and hung up the head. Victory for the Lords of Death! One of the reeds planted in the center of the grandmother's house withered and died. When Xbalanque realized that his brother was dead, be called all the animals, the wild boar, the deer and lizard, all of them. Just before dawn he inched from his blowgun, and found the animals already there. He found the headless body of his brother. I have asked you to come," Xbalanque told the animals, "to choose your food. Come, tell me what you want." The animals came up one at a time, and chose their food. Some took rotten things, others the grasses. Some wanted stones, some wanted to gather the dark earth. Hanging behind the rest was the turtle squeezed in his shell. He came waddling up heavily alongside the body of Hunahpu to choose his food. Just as he got alongside Hunahpu's shoulders, the turtle instantly took on the form of a head. The eyes were made, but the rest had to be created. Outside the House of Bats, where the dawn was getting ready to break, suddenly there were many soothsayers soaring overhead. Heart of Heaven was there, swooping and darting above the house. It wasn't easy to make a face, to give it hair, to give it a mouth and lips so that it could speak. The work was difficult, but the face began

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to take shape. But it took time, and outside the horizon was becoming a red glow. "Make it dark again, Old One!" the buzzard was told. The buzzard spread his huge black wings, and it was dark again. The buzzard has darkened the sky, thus people say nowadays. How will it be? Will it look like Hunahpu? "It's fine, just like a real head," they answered. And in the cool dawn the head was finished. The two brothers talked together. Xbalanque said, "When we get to the ball-court, let me take care of everything. You just pretend to play." Xbalanque gave a rabbit instructions to hide in the grove of oaks near the ball-court. "When the ball comes to you, run!" he told the rabbit. "I'll take care of the rest." At dawn, the boys came out of the House of Bats into the yellow light. They went down to the ball-court. As they came close, they saw Hunahpu's head hanging over the court. "Ha!" the Lords laughed when they saw Hunahpu. "Look who's here! Maybe we should hit his head with the ball!" Hunahpu burned with anger, but said nothing. The Lords threw out the ball. It was heading straight for the ring, but Xbalanque blocked it, and the ball bounced over the walls of the ball-court and rolled toward the oak grove. As the Lords carne chasing after the ball, the rabbit ran from the oaks, and down the hill. The Lords ran after him, jumping and yelling. As soon as the Lords were out of sight, Xbalanque took the turtle-head and traded it for his brother's bead which hung above the court. When Hunahpu had his bead back, the two boys laughed joyfully and ran to finish the ball game. They found the ball in the oaks and called for the Lords to come back. The Lords thought that something strange was going on. Even though they played hard against the boys, they couldn't score, and the game ended in a tie. Then Xbalanque took a stone, took careful aim, and threw it at the head hanging over the ball-court. The Lords watched the head fall, and when it bit the ground, it burst apart like a ripe fruit.

In the end, the boys died in the Underworld. Seeing their death coming, the twins sent for two soothsayers. "The Lords of Death will send for you," they told the soothsayers, "and will ask you what to do with our bodies. It has struck us that they will burn us. As for our bones, tell them no if they want to throw them in the ravine. Say that we would come alive again if they did that. Tell them no if they want to hang our bones in the trees. But if they want to throw our bones in the river, tell them yes, that is the way to do it. Tell them to grind our bones as corn is ground, and to throw the powder in the bub-bling mouth of the river. Tell them that our bones will be carried away into the dark hills." After the boys bad instructed the soothsayers, they sat quietly on the riverbank, and soon messengers came looking for them. "The Lords say you are to be burned," the messengers told the boys upon arriving. The boys went quickly. They found the Lords of Death standing beside a great pit of fire.

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Smiling, the Lords said, "How about a little sport, my friends? We can drink chicha, and fly over the fire." The boys answered: "Don't try to fool us. You think that our own death is a stranger to us?" With these words, the brothers embraced each other face to face, extended their arms, bent forward, and dove into the pit of fire. Thus they found death together. Now was the time of drinking, of rattles and drums for the Lords of Xibalba. "At last they have given themselves up!" they shouted and whistled. The Lords held council with two soothsayers who lived by the river, and by their instruction, they ground the bones of the poor boys, and threw them into the river. But the bones did not drift far; they settled quickly and heavily to the sandy bottom and became once again handsome boys.

Five days after the boys were killed, two old men in rags came to Xibalba. Even though they looked like beggars, their dancing was marvelous. For the Lords, who came out of their houses, they performed the dance of the churn-owl, and the dances of the armadillo and centipede. They put on small masks and wore macaw tail feathers on the napes of their necks to do the dance of walk-on-stilts. For those gathered they also worked miracles. They sent fire leaping around houses, then instantly restored them. One of the old men took out his knife and killed the other old man, but instantly brought him back to life. The Lords looked on in awe and amazement. Soon news of the two dancers reached the ears of the Lords of Death. Could anyone really do such things? Hun-Came sent messengers to fetch the old men with flattery. When the old men heard the message they became shy and worried. "How can we appear in the house of these Lords?" the old men told the messengers. "Look at these rags, and our ugly faces with big fish eyes. We are ashamed. We are just poor dancers here to entertain the poor. We can't go into the houses of Lords!" Finally, the messengers had to drive them along the path back to the Lords, hitting them in the face, and kicking them along the way. When the old men were brought before the Lords, they threw themselves at their feet. They trembled in fear and showed their reverence. The Lords were surprised at their feeble and beggarly appearance. "Where do you come from?" they asked the vagabonds. "We do not know, your Lord. We were made orphans very young," the old ones answered. "No matter. We brought you here because we have heard about your wonderful dancing. What payment would you like?" "Nothing, your Lord," they answered, "but we are afraid to dance here before you."

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"Nonsense! There is nothing to be afraid of. Just dance. First do the part where you kill yourselves, and burn my house. Do all those things that we have beard about. Entertain us, and you won't be poor when you leave here." So the old men started to dance the dance of the weasel. "Cut up my dog!" the Lord commanded, and bring him back to life again!" They did, and the dog wagged his tail and barked, happy to be alive again. "Burn my house!" Instantly fire leapt around the house, but nobody was burned. The Lords were astounded. "Sacrifice somebody," they asked. "Kill him, but don't let him die." The old men grabbed an onlooker and quickly cut out his heart, and held it high. When the man was brought back to life he was happy, and felt his body with grateful hands. "Sacrifice yourselves!" The old men did it. Xbalanque cut off Hunahpu's arms and legs one by one, then his head and had it carried away, finally he tore out his heart and threw it steaming on the grass, and then brought him back to life. The Lords were amazed and frantic at What Hunahpu and Xbalanque could do. "Do us!" the Lords shouted. "Kill us, and bring us back to life." The two answered, "You brought us here to entertain you, your Lords, so we will do it." They then killed Hun-Came and Vucub-Came, the Lords of Death, just as they wished, but Hunahpu and Xbalanque did not bring them back to life. Disguised as old men, the boys had avenged the torments that their father suffered at the bands of the Lords of Death. The reeds in the center of the grandmother's house had withered when the boys jumped into the fire, but when Xmucame saw the reeds sprout this time, she knew that her grandchildren were safe. Now, she lighted the fire and burned incense before the reeds. She worshiped these plants called Green Reeds, calling them Center of the House. The Lords of Death were defeated by the brothers, and from that time on those who loved to do evil to men would only receive evil men, or the sad and unfortunate, or those given up to vice. Because of their false hearts, hearts both black and white at the same time, the Underworld was given what stinks and is rotten. The boys ascended surrounded with light, lifted into the sky. One was given the sun, the other took the moon. The arch of heaven and the face of the earth were lighted.

translated by Ralph Nelson