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Archive for November, 2014

One time we saw a red, glowing cloud protrude from the tip of the mountain and rush down over the cliff, and then the cloud balled together and became even redder. It took a course straight towards us and came up so swiftly, that we were scarcely aware of the danger as it wrapped around us. It was only for a moment, but we believed we were going to breath fire and that we were going to burn. Then it was past us, and to our astonishment, we remained unharmed. After this outburst it became calmer in the air and in the earth, and finally during the first morning hours we were able to lie down to sleep.

In the morning, with Theresa’s help, I rebuilt our broken hut again as quickly as I could, while Don Pedro went out to see what had happened during the night, particularly because the ground was all broken in pieces with wide, deep fissures and cracks showing. But I had not been working too long when Don Pedro came running up so distraught and out of breath, that I believed he must have encountered something especially horrible. He took me by the hand, led me to a large golden block that lay close by the hut and asked me to touch it. I did, and it seemed to me as if I grabbed at a yielding mass, and the gold crumbled beneath my fingers, transformed into dust and trickled down to the ground. And as Don Pedro pounded with his fist against the block, it collapsed entirely and became nothing more than a collapsed heap of ash.

Then, after some consideration, I said that this proved we had been wrong, that we had mistaken it for real gold and that it must have been destroyed during the night through some chemical reaction from the glowing cloud.

But Don Pedro threw himself to the ground, beat himself with his fists and screamed so loudly that I thought he had fallen in a fit of cramps. Finally he got up, led me to the side and said that now it was unfortunately very clear and proven without a doubt, that this female, who lived with us, was a wicked witch and a sorceress, which we had to chase away or free her from demon for the salvation of our own souls.

I could not believe this at first, but Don Pedro proved to me how everything hung together; how Theresa herself had at first refused to pray with us; how she had sacrificed to the idol and how the terror of the past night had been called up with the help of infuriated demons after the pedestal had been destroyed. This was finally followed by the destruction of our great treasure.

I had to agree that there was something to his argument, and agreed to question Theresa about it. But instead of Theresa answering Don Pedro, she turned to me and spoke. She said that she no longer wanted to conceal from me how the chaplain hounded her with his hatred. She had remained silent up to now, to cause no problems between us, but now she wanted to tell me that she hated Don Pedro, and because of that she was not willing to do what I asked.

Then Don Pedro rang his hands and lifted them up to the heavens.

“Brother,” he cried, “now you can see for yourself how wide the abyss of this evil castoff creature reaches, that she even dares place me in shameful suspicion, in order to steer us away from her own shameful deeds. I must profess that these are all stinking, hellish and low down lies, concocted by the demon that is inside her.

I myself was frightened at Theresa’s evil shamefulness and agreed with Don Pedro, that we must castigate her in the name of the Lord, in order to drive the devil out of her.  We tied Theresa to a pole and I struck her with a rod; but after a while Don Pedro said that I was becoming too tired and not strong enough in my blows. Then I turned Theresa over to the chaplain, and he went to work with a great zealousness. After three blows from a thumb sized rod, Pedro held the picture of the Madonna up to her, to test her, to see whether the devil had left her yet. But Theresa refused to kiss the picture. She said that nothing could compel her to show reverence to my beloved.

Then we saw that she had still not been cleansed of the demon, and Don Pedro thought that we must to use more severe materials; he brought a couple splinters of the hard wood with which we started our fire, and ignited them.

I did not want to watch anymore, even though the good Christ said we must do it, that it was our duty, to save Theresa. So I left her with the chaplain, who wanted to singe her a little with the splinters.  It was not very long before I believed that I heard a moaning and whimpering. I returned and told Don Pedro that he had done enough. Theresa was burned in many places, but it was still impossible to bring her to kiss the picture of the Madonna, and you could still clearly see the stubbornness of the indwelling devil.

Despite that I could not bear the sight of her wounded back and gathered some of the healing herbs, which she had taught me about, and laid them on her with a bandage of soft plant leaves. Theresa said nothing, only kissed me on the hand, so that I began to believe that she had regained her senses and perhaps would not resist our request so strongly the next day.

But we were to see that Theresa was entirely in the power of the devil. Overnight Don Pedro had hung the picture of the Madonna on a newly driven post in our hut, so that the mother of god might spread her mantle upon us and protect us from the evil spirits and terrors that now surrounded us.

When it became light and we arose, we didn’t see the picture in its place and found it only after a search among the bushes; entirely broken into splinters and completely destroyed. Theresa’s stone knife lay close by and we were not in any doubt that she had destroyed it. When we asked her about it, she didn’t deny her deed in anyway; instead she spoke with a strong glow in her eyes, she had now conquered her enemy.

Then a blind rage came over me, because my heart had hung on this portrait, which was our sanctuary and for me at the same time showed the features of my beloved. And it seemed to me, as if Theresa, in destroying the portrait, had also destroyed all our hope of ever returning back to Spain. I could not control myself and beat Theresa with my fists and finally chased her away, telling her that I would kill her if she ever dared to come back to us. Don Pedro had intended that we punish her some more, but I was fed up with the beating and singeing, and only cared about one thing, to not ever see Theresa in front of me again.

She stood silent for a while by our bed and looked over at me, as if she didn’t understand what I had just said to her. But as I repeated my command with strong words and waved her away with outstretched arms, she turned and left with a lowered head. I climbed to the heights above the ruins, which were even more fallen down, and watched after her, how she climbed down the cliff of the mountain and then took the path through the wide grassy plain that to my calculations must lead back to the village, so I assumed that she wanted to go back to her countrymen.

 

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After this happened, he began to zealously instruct her in the Christian faith. At the request of Don Pedro I erected a cross, made of two pieces of wood and bound with bark, at a place near the hut. We held our morning and evening services in front of this cross.

Don Pedro had brought a painting of the Madonna on a piece of wood and a prayer book along with him when he had come ashore. He had loyally guarded these sacred objects during his stay in the wilderness, and he read to us from out of this prayer book. I will remark at the same time that there were some empty pages bound in the back of the book; the same ones, on which you now find this manuscript, which I removed from their place much later.

Meanwhile the chaplain was not satisfied with Theresa’s progress in the Christian faith. She was still as stubborn a heathen as always in her inner self and did not take the holy teachings seriously, especially since my presence distracted her so much that he had to ask me to no longer be present during the hour of instruction.

I now wanted Theresa to become a believer as soon as possible and relieve Don Pedro of the sustained effort and great enthusiasm with which he brought forth threats against her bright soul. I followed his wishes and left him alone with Theresa for the hour of instruction. This led to no better end.

One day as I strolled through the forest near the hut I heard a loud scream coming from that direction and recognized Theresa’s voice. I believed that Theresa had been attacked by a wild animal and hurriedly ran there. I found Theresa lying on her knees in front of the chaplain, who was pressing down on her wrist with his left hand, while holding out his right to strike a blow. As I came up he let his arm sink, but I recognized by his face, that he was in an exceptional rage and his anger was so strong that he was not able to speak at all. Finally he said that Theresa was so opposed to the holy truth, so stubborn and disruptive, that he had lost his Christian patience and been gripped by the impulse to punish her.

At this I said (because I found that Theresa understood me better than Don Pedro) that it was for me to punish her, it was my duty, and he only needed to tell me if she remained stubborn and disruptive. I would then find some way to reason with her.

But Don Pedro replied that he had given up all hope of making a true Christian out of Theresa and would not trouble himself about her any longer.

Theresa had not spoken during this argument, but in the night she moved to my side and asked whether I desired that she should give herself to the chaplain as a woman. Now I knew very well, that on the island of Zubu, the custom ruled, for the host to offer his friends and guests the women of the house. Our manhood had over zealously made use of this custom, and because of it a strong rage had developed in the men because they saw that the women preferred the strangers over themselves.

From Theresa’s question I realized that Don Pedro’s instruction in Christianity had not gone well and she was still not able to recognize the difference between being a savage or a Christian Spanish woman. The customs of her own land no longer applied to her. I made this plain, told her that she was now a Christian and must put away the customs of the heathen. Finally I also told her that as a priest, Don Pedro was a holy man, who had renounced sexual intercourse with women. After that she didn’t resist any further.

The chaplain really didn’t trouble himself very much with Theresa’s Christian education after that and remained hard and dark against her. But he became even more preoccupied with the thought of the great treasure in the golden city. Once more in his daily speech he spoke of Spain and Sevilla and reminded me of how I could buy old Donna Mercedes whatever her heart desired.

I really had been thinking more than ever about my homeland as well, and a great unrest came over me.  We thought of making some kind of plan so that we could somehow leave here. I knew that Magellan had, in his last days, calculated that we could not be far from the lands of the Portuguese. The Islamic merchants who had discovered Zubu and traded goods with the king must have known about them as well, because they had told the king to guard himself against such men as us, as well as any others of the west.

We spent many hours talking together in counsel over what we could do, with the help of God and all the saints, to win past the Portuguese, who, even though an enemy of Spain would not leave us in the hands of the savages. The more we considered it, the more we thought that it would not do us any good and no plan came forward.

Even if we were to build a raft without the people of Zubu discovering it, we didn’t have any charts and would need to sail without a compass. There was a greater chance of entering the throat of death than of life and our homeland.

We stood more and more often on the peak of the mountain and looked out over the ocean to see if we could discover a Portuguese ship. But nothing was to be seen, other than from time to time the sails of the heathen that were out catching fish. During such hours I could imagine my homeland perfectly, and I thought about Donna Mercedes, who had embraced me at my departure and whispered to me. I must return because our lives were entwined together.

Because I thought so much on my Donna and ever more perfectly imagined her features, it happened that one evening I discovered in the Madonna painting, which Pedro held up for me, a great similarity between these features and those of my beloved. We had just spoken more of our escape, and Pedro had pulled out the portrait and held it out for me to kiss. After I had discovered this similarity he said that he trusted in the intercession of the mother of God. And it seemed to me to be a good omen for our plans, so much so, that I became entirely happy in my heart and began to hope more strongly than ever before. I also told Pedro of my newly established hope and he agreed with me that the similarity between the mother of God and my beloved could be looked at as a good omen.

The following night, as I lay there sleepless and thoughtful, it occurred to me, whether it would be possible to steal one of the boats of the natives and flee in it with some lumps of gold. Theresa knew where the boats lay hidden, and at night she would be taken for one of the women of the village by the designated guards. She could untie one of them and bring it to a place where we could climb in.

But when we talked this plan over the next day and found it a good one, Theresa resisted us and would not agree to do it. She said that she would never do it. I must here now mention that a great transformation had come over Theresa. While she had earlier always been passionately inclined to speak, she had now become quiet and thoughtful. When we spoke of our escape and our homeland, she crouched on the floor and watched us with a dark countenance. Especially after she realized that I longed to go back to Mercedes, and she clearly showed that she was against our plans.

Then, with the newly awoken memory of my beloved in Sevilla, I became increasingly aware of the difference between Mercedes and Theresa.  How much softer and lighter my Spanish beloved’s skin was, how much more slender her hips and how much finer and silkier her hair. How easy it was to treasure Mercedes, and the strange and exciting love caresses that she knew, which Theresa didn’t know anything about. So it came about that I was hard and annoyed many times when these differences were so perfectly presented before my eyes.

I also cried out loud to her that she had to obey me, and would not even consider letting her contradict me. At that she stood up and said that she would never lift a hand to help me return to my homeland and to Donna Mercedes. Then Don Pedro began to yell at her as well and exclaimed how could she dare, even take the name of Donna in her mouth; and that in comparison to the Spanish lady, was nothing more than the dust at her feet. And to make her feel even lower, he put the painting of the Madonna right in front of her eyes and said that my beloved looked like the mother of God herself. Then Theresa gripped the portrait with both hands, pulled it close and looked at it for a long time with a wild expression on her face; one that I had never seen before, not even the time when she had stabbed her knife into the chest of Duarte Barbosa.

Then she gave the picture back to the chaplain and ran out of the hut. She didn’t come back home for the entire day and was not in front of the cross that evening for prayers, which until then she had always done together with us. She came back later that night and the next morning I gave her a good talking to and chastised her with hard words.

Then Don Pedro showed a great rage over this absence and said that we must now pray even more zealously than ever and use the opportunity to beseech the Lord so that he would not deny us his help.

Theresa remained silent and defiant during my performance and immediately ran away, again not to return for the entire day. Then I was seized with a great rage, when she again was not present at the evening service. I was of the same opinion as Don Pedro, that it would go bad for us, if we allowed this disloyal soul to once more return to the devil. When I saw that I could not bring her to the services before the cross with threats, I hit her with a stick which Pedro had cut for me from a bush.

But she stood and let herself be beaten, without complaining, and even though I was so anxious to force her into a pious experience through pain, I finally had to stop.  The bright blood ran over her back, and even though I was so annoyed over her abhorrent stubbornness, I still had compassion for her.

Once more we had to pray without her, and Don Pedro set me straight that through the stubbornness of this heathen our hopes became even smaller. I said that I would like to try once more to win her back on our side. But Theresa gave no opportunity for that, because she only came back into the hut that night, so softly that she didn’t disturb our sleep, and was long gone with the morning light. This continued for three days. On the fourth day Don Pedro came and told me that he feared Theresa had entirely fallen away from the Christian faith and returned to the devil. He had found fresh fruit and flowers in front of one of the idols in the ruins as an offering, and they could not have been put there by anyone else but Theresa. Then he led me to the idol and I found it was true, as he had said.

It was one of the abominable idols with four legs and five arms, of which the fifth grew from out of its belly. On its head it wore a feather headdress with a torn out bird’s beak, and if you looked at it closely, you could see that every feather was held in place by a little skull. Then I was seized with horror that Theresa could believe in such a terrible superstition after she had been baptized. Don Pedro thought that we should hide and surprise her when she came back with another offering.

So we lay there in the bushes for several hours, until we heard steps and saw Theresa coming with flowers and fruit. We waited until she had laid down her offering and begun to dance, as was the custom of all peoples when they want to honor their gods; then we jumped out at the same and Pedro seized her on the arm and dragged her down to her knees.

“Miserable idol worshiper!” he cried. “You vessel of sin, you bride of Satan! How can you stain your soul that has been purified through baptism in such an abominable way? You deserve to be immediately thrown into the abyss of hell, to be shut out from all grace and mercy!”

And I added, how could she give herself so completely into the hands of the evil one, when she had told me herself that her own people believed the devil lived here in the golden ruins.

But she cried in her language, “Really, this belief is true. The devil does live in these ruins, and there he stands.”

She pointed at the chaplain, who became very frightened at these evil words of the heathen Theresa and stepped back.

But he scarcely pulled himself back together, when he cried that he wanted to drive the demon out of Theresa, and that he had no greater desire, that he could no longer endure such a horrible and fearsome spirit so close by. And Theresa needed to see that her idol was nothing other than putrid smoke and fumes before the breath of the Lord.

At that he commanded me to help him and grabbed onto the hand of the idol and broke it off. After that we brought some rope and poles and with considerable effort succeeded so that the statue tumbled to the ground with a dull thud. At first Theresa covered her head, as if she didn’t want to watch. Then we went further, through the entire ruins, and to the honor of God, threw all the idols, twenty five in all, down from their pedestals.

But during the night a horrible crashing arose over our heads and a rumbling in the earth, so that the ground began to sway like a ship and our hut was immediately torn apart, as if the poles were thin reeds. We ran out, and then saw a great flame on the top of the highest mountain and a reflection like blood surrounding us in all the rubble. There was a screeching and shrieking in the air as if from a thousand voices; as if all the spirits in hell were descending upon us. The ruins of the golden city rolled around each other, so that they gave off loud noises as they crashed together.

A large boulder fell from out of the sky right in front of Don Pedro and almost hit him. Theresa began laughing at that, and it was so frightening to hear, that Don Pedro approached her. She was to remain silent and feel the blessed holy Virgin in her soul.

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After a short time the same horrible and miserable screeching as yesterday began again on the roof of the hut, and even the dogs began to howl and whine again. In front of the hut was raised a murmur of voices and a clattering of weapons, and then I heard the steps of many men running away into the distance. After a long time I felt a hand seize mine with a tug and a sign for me to understand. I was to get up, which I immediately did, in order to blindly follow my guide. We crawled through a hole in the wall at the back end of the hut, and I inhaled the night air with great joy. It was so dark that I could not distinguish anything of my guide other than her figure and streaks of white. It was a color with which all the women of Zubu painted their breasts and legs and which now glowed a little under the free light of the heavens.

We slipped away between the huts of the village towards a mountain, until we came to a forest. Here we took a short rest, and the girl began to softly speak, but I couldn’t answer her in any other way than in Spanish and I thanked her for rescuing me. Then we went further, and as we came out of the forest near daybreak; we found ourselves in the light of the just risen moon and took shelter on a broad, grass covered plain. In the same light I recognized my guide as the girl that had sat near me on my right. What happened to the other, I would only learn later, and will only say what I suspected at the time, namely, that she had been given something in her drink, which she ingested and it put her into a deep sleep.

The travel through the high grass of the plain was difficult and troublesome for me once my head with its wound and my swollen feet were exposed to the rays of the sun. When my little girl became aware that I could scarcely continue, she made a rest by running water, washing my wound and bandaging it with her veil. Then she took some herbs, and anointed the irritated places on my feet and wrists with the sap, after which I almost immediately felt more comfortable and stronger, so that I could soon continue on further.

On this trail I found many flowers whose leaves were alive. These leaves consisted of two parts that clapped together like wings, and they sat with short, pointed stems on the branches. At the other end they had a red thorn. When they sensed a human, they pulled away, and a little stick flew through the air as well, and when they were driven into a tight corner, they turned around and stabbed with the red thorn, no different than an animal. But they really were leaves, and I believe that they lived upon the air.

Toward evening we climbed the steep mountain and at twilight came to a narrow ravine which we had to wander through for perhaps an hour. From this we stepped out onto a level plain, whose grass spread out in front of us like a carpet. Again it was so dark that I had to take my guide by the hand, meanwhile we came across some stone ruins that looked like pillars or arches, so that a person might think they had found themselves in a destroyed city.

Night fell upon us, after which we ate several fruit, which my girl brought from the nearby growing bushes, without a fire next to a large heap of stones, and there I became very tired and only awoke late the next day. As I looked around me, I realized that I had not been deceived last night. We really were in the ruins of a city with the remains of walls and towers and pillars and fountains. What I had not been able to notice in the darkness was that these ruins and rubble were all of pure gold, so that they shone and glimmered in the sun, as if we were standing in brilliant flames. Now it was well known to us that this metal was considered common on our discovered island and of little value. Magellan had to strongly forbid us to not seem too greedy for gold or to place a great value on it, so the savages would not know how valuable and expensive it was to us. But I had not thought such an empire possible in these lands. In comparison to the huts of bark and cane down below on the beach, these golden ruins seemed to have been built by another people and—even though I was no expert—I would venture to maintain, that the city must have been built before the great flood. In the rubble there were also many gigantic statues of gods, standing and sitting, with eyes of jewels and rings on their fingers, of which one alone, was worth an entire house in Sevilla, like the one that Donna Mercedes lived in.

As I learned the speech of the land from Salaja, that was the girl’s name, I learned from her that her countrymen knew of this city very well, but the avoided the area because they considered it occupied by devils. At my question, why Salaja had come here with me despite this belief of her folk, she smiled at me and kissed me on the mouth, as I had taught her that was what the Spanish women did. I must here confess that Salaja had become my wife, after I realized that she had taken on all dangers and the rage of her own people because she loved me.

And if anyone should find this manuscript, I don’t want you to think that I had taken some ugly Negress to wife. I must clarify that the women of Zubu were almost as white as our women, that in youth they had smooth and tender skin and that their voices were very soft and gentle, so that you could listen to their songs with great pleasure.

At first my Salaja wore large pieces of wood in her ears like all the others and painted herself with red and white mud, but she put the wooden earrings away and stopped painting herself after I told her once that I was not fond of this kind of decoration. She was compliant and competent in all things and did everything according to my will, so that I often wondered a little if she really was the one that pushed the stone knife into the breast of Duarte Barbosa.

We lived in the golden city, whose surroundings gave us an abundance of fruit and animals, for a long time without moving, almost for six months, unbothered and without having to suffer the rigor the heavens in this hot and happy stretch of land. And while in the beginning I thought of my own travels and my homeland with longing and homesickness, I later forgot them from day to day, living even more only for corporal things, just like a plant or animal. And I do not want to say what might have become of me and to what level of forgetfulness the devil might have brought me even further, if something hadn’t happened one day, which I will relate in the following. (NB. But sometimes it seems to me, that this early time could not have been under the sign of Satan, and furthermore, that which happened later, seems to have been on his instigation and led to an evil game. So that I am now in great confusion and my soul is still in no way clear about what I should make of all these things. That is why I desire this once just before my death, to raise a sincere prayer to my patron in heaven, so that perhaps death will be easier for my soul, things will not be so painful and I will no longer be so full of doubt and confusion.)

So it was perhaps half a year after my liberation and we had still not seen any other people, when one morning Salaja had scarcely gone out, when she came rushing back into our house of twigs and bushes. She cried that she had seen someone in the bushes and slinking around the ruins. I immediately followed her to a hidden spot and there we saw a human who crept through the bushes so carefully in the twilight that I only got one glimpse and could no longer make him out.

Then I seized my spear, on which I had fastened a blade of stone, to kill this other person if he came any nearer. But as he stepped out of the shadows I recognized our chaplain Pedro ed Valderrama, whom I had believed murdered with the others. His clothing was very torn, his face was framed with a wild beard, but he stood there alive in front of me, and while I was watching him, he looked around and his glance fell upon our golden ruins. Then he sank to his knees and raised his hands high, as if in prayer, at which point I stepped up and greeted him. But he screamed out loud, fell down and hid his face between his hands, so that I had to speak with him for a long time and tell him that I really was Juan Serrano, his companion. Later I recognized that his terror was not so remarkable, since I had not been wearing my shirt during my flight, and after that Salaja had woven me a skirt out of bark and leaves, so that I, with unshaven head, beard and burned from the sun, appeared like a savage.

The chaplain was almost still more astonished over the golden city in which we lived than he was over me and he said that all the riches of previously discovered lands could not compare to these treasures. He picked up clumps of gold and carried them in all his pockets, which he always took out and examined, as if there was not enough of this metal lying all around.

After we had brought him to our hut, he explained that he had been saved by Cilatun, a brother of the king, the same one, whom he had brought back to health through baptism and prayer. This man had been very ill when we had come to the island, and had not spoken for four days. The magicians and priests of the gods could not prevail over the illness, but immediately after baptism and after Don Pedro said a prayer over him he had felt better and in a short time was completely healed. Out of thankfulness Cilatun had then spared the chaplain’s life by leading him to his own house, from where he had then escaped into the forest and later to this lonely mountain.

I was overjoyed at finding one of my companions, but Salaja was silent and troubled, as if Don Pedro was not very welcome to her, so much so that I had to console her. During the night after Don Pedro’s arrival I again heard the horrible and miserable screech of a bird near our hut, and when I became aware that Salaja was awake, I asked her what kind of bird it was. But I had to ask for a long time before she would give me an answer. This bird was the grimmest enemy of the whales, and when these came up from out of the deeps, in order to sleep with open mouths on the surface of the ocean, this bird would fly down to it, through the mouth, into the innards, tear its heart out with its sharp beak and kill it in this manner. But its scream was considered unholy. And that was why even the guards in front of the hut had run away that time. Then I asked her whether the screech of the bird was such an evil thing to her, whereupon she squeezed my hand and kissed me, as only a Spanish lady can kiss.

The next day Don Pedro clambered around in the ruins and came back in such great confusion that I noticed the prospect of so much gold must have climbed into his head. He spoke only of it, that these heaps of gold were immeasurable and with them a man could buy the entire Royal Empire of Castilla. That evening he went with me to a high place, from which you could see the plain overgrown with grass and look out over the endless ocean.

“What you could have with all this gold,” he said to me. “It lies here unused!” We are both the richest men in the world and will never enjoy any of our riches.”

And he continued on to paint for me, how a person could live in Sevilla, and how all the world would be amazed and serve you. But as I answered him, I declined to dwell upon it, because it was not possible and we would never be able to leave this island. To which he replied that he had already noticed that in living together with this woman I had lost all my incentive, yes, that I had even forgotten what the best way was, that of Christianity. He could not even imagine that Salaja had ever been baptized.

At which I replied that was quite possible, because Salaja was clothed with another a type of priestly dignity, one that all these people had renounced before being baptized.

Then he said that it was necessary for her to take up the Christian faith, because he could not endure that I continued living with a heathen any longer as if in marriage.  If I did not ask this of her she would still fall into hell and be thrown from the face of God.

I told him that I had not done this, because Salaja had saved me from death and I had not wanted to insult her.

Then he said what beautiful gratitude it was, that someone who saved me from death, would be given the prize of the spiritual death.

After that I agreed that I would request this of her and persuade her to be baptized.

After the words of Don Pedro and my own given promise I began trying to convince her with all my power to enter into the Christian community. Salaja didn’t resist and said, although a little sad, that she would do what I desired; and so Don Pedro performed the baptism, gave her the name Teresa, and united us as well in Christian marriage.

 

 

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