No product of Mexican patience and skill was more justly admired than were the exquisite feather-mosaics. The artist sometimes spent a whole day selecting one tiny feather and gumming it in its place on a warrior's cloak or shield. The rainbow sheen of the breast and the throat of the humming-bird was most eagerly sought for this work; it was almost as costly as though the glittering patterns were wrought in the gems it so perfectly imitated. The little bird whose plumage had been stolen was itself reproduced in the design, or fishes with gleaming scales or flowers of radiant colors shone out as though they were real, and not mere copies from nature. Birds, fishes and all other known animals were also imitated exactly in gold and silver, each hair and scale being most carefully wrought in the metal. This art, they claimed, was taught by Feathered Serpent, their hero-god. The same forms were cut in gems and worn as jewelry. One emerald thus carved was crushed with holy horror by a Spanish priest when he found that it had been worshiped as a god.
When the life of the Aztec reached its close and preparation was made for the funeral rites, the darkness with regard to the coming state in which the tribe walked became manifest. After the survivors had mourned all day in silence over their dead, seeking by tender entreaty and offers of food to win back the departed spirit, they filled the night with despairing shrieks and moans. They then made preparations for cremation. All the possessions of the dead man were brought together and burned with him. When a head-chief died, his body lay in state for a certain time dressed in the garb of his patron god. But a long and dreary journey lay between him and those regions of bliss promised to the great warriors of the tribe.
