exceeding joy the heart of Balam-Quitzé, of Balam-Agab of Mahucutah,
and of Iqui-Balam. It seemed to them that even the face of the
morning star caught a new and more resplendent brightness.

"They shook their incense-pans and danced for very gladness: sweet
were their tears in dancing, very hot

[1. Poor, "Sanskrit and Kindred Literatures," p. 883.]

{p. 245}

their incense--their precious incense. _At last the sun commenced to
advance_; the animals small and great were full of delight; they
raised themselves to the surface of the water; they fluttered in the
ravines; they gathered at the edge of the mountains, turning their
beads together toward that part from which the sun came. And the lion
and the tiger roared. And the first bird that sang was that called
the Queletzu. All the animals were beside themselves at the sight;
the eagle and the kite beat their wings, and every bird both great
and small. _The men prostrated themselves on the ground_, for their
hearts were full to the brim."[1]

How graphic is all this picture! How life-like! Here we have the
starving and wandering nations, as described in the preceding
chapter, moving in the continual twilight; at last the clouds grow
brighter, the sun appears: all nature rejoices in the unwonted sight,
and mankind fling themselves upon their faces like "the rude and
savage man of Ind, kissing the base ground with obedient breast," at
the first coming of the glorious day.