The O-Wash-Ta-Nong/Volume 3/Number 1/Acirema
Acirema
By G. W. Macauley
Once upon a time in an age long past, there lived a great nation called A-cir-ema. This nation had fallen into the folly of war and was left weak even though her armies were acclaimed victorious. The ruler whose voice had stilled the war had a great passion for further conquests but took ill and died without attaining them.
Several rulers had followed, each reigning briefly, when there came to rule one whom the people greatly acclaimed as A-cir-ema was greatly pressed with war debts and lack of trade, reactions from the great war.
As the new king raised his voice high against fraud and double-dealing, the confidence and the sympathy of the people was his: And yet, even as the people acclaimed him, the king’s agents were among them taking their gold. But few were the protests for the king’s voice rose still higher against those of his subjects who were unfortunate enough to have more gold than their neighbors. So in the shops and in the streets of the land wherever men met they spoke of the new king as great and good. They praised his magic voice which needed no enscribed proclamation to bring his word even into the farthest corners of the realm.
When the gold had been all collected, he caused a great fortress to be built in the hills and there, well-guarded, the treasure was placed. This done, he caused heavy taxes to be levied on the people for, although he talked against wars, he caused many war chariots and war ships to be built. Also, he sent among the people, great sums as alms which sorely distracted their minds from their age-old beliefs and customs of aiding each other in time of need.
Still his people did not call him tyrant, for his voice, which seemed always among them, drew their attention to new things and away from the heavy taxes and the loss of gold, for the king promised a new era, a time of milk and honey when his complete power came upon the land. Also is recorded that one day he promised a respite for the heavily-taxed tradesmen, only to withdraw his promise on the morrow.
Came there laws which lessened the prescribed amount of products from the fields and so from far countries came the grain which was no longer raised in A-cir-ema. This caused great expense to the people but still they were distracted by their ruler’s voice for he asked for more power and more of his people’s wealth to correct what he termed evils.
So as taxes mounted, the king’s voice soothed his people, caused them to forget toil, and turned their minds to idleness while they lived on his bounties.
Those few voices raised against this, were likened unto the call of carrion birds in the wilderness and were named evil.
The people, lulled into mental sleep gave over those powers of government which their ancestors won for them until there was left but the council of wise men. The king’s word went among them that the nation’s council of wise men should no longer be of venerable age, but should be of youthful mein. And so it came to pass that the haste and unstability of youth mingled more and more in the laws of the land causing still greater confusion and waste.
While yet the great ruler’s voice came into their midst, there arose prophets from among the people with new ways which were bound not by law.
Confusion followed perplexity and gradually the voice of the mighty one carried not among the people. Slowly this knowledge came to him, although his satellites tried to keep this from him.
There came strange rumors from far places in the land which but added to the growing loss of confidence which now spread rapidly. Out of all this confusion there came to pass the word that the people were making laws unto themselves. Then came a day when a messenger invaded the cordon of guards around the palace and delivered the great ruler this message:
“O mighty one, giver of grace and wisdom, there has come to our land great distress, among many of the troubles I bring word that but yesterday the workers at the chariot trades have squatted at their benches refusing to work. Your guards, saying it is your wish, will neither punish them or throw them out.”
In his mighty voice, the great ruler answered, “It is my great desire that no blood be shed—my guards are right.”
“But, O mighty one,” the messenger said, “the chariots on which they are working are for your army.”
A look of disdain came over the face of the ruler and he spoke but one word, “Go!” with an angry sweep of his arm.
The changes made in the council of wise men which were to lighten the load of the people, changed the trend not an iota. While in the troubled land came new adversities as rains failed and the few crops were parched. High winds tore at the fertile fields and everywhere there was adversity. Never was there a land so forlorn even after conquest by a ruthless foe.
Another day came when the messenger again passed through the guards.
“There is woe, Mighty One, far and near. I come to tell you that no longer are the fields tilled, the hammers lie idle in the shops and forges while even the market places are silent.”
The great ruler’s face showed surprise and he queried: “Why this idleness? Has a great pestilence spread among my people? My voice has been going out among them to comfort them and bolster their morale. Answer me, Why?”
“O mighty one, though my words may grieve you greatly, only the plain truth shall came from my lips. Sire, your land sits asleep. Speech has gone from your subjects. Even as I came into your palace, the royal guards were squatting on the stones of the courtyard. Truly a great misery has come upon our fertile land. O mighty one, you ask why our nation sleeps and I give answer. When age-old tenets are tossed aside and the great fiends, Waste and Idleness are set up as gods, then you are reaping what is sowed.”
A smile came to the lips of the king and he commanded, “Bring me a chariot.”
Soon the messenger returned saying that in all the royal stables he could find but two asses who were able to travel and they were harnessed at the doors when the king was led to his waiting chariot.
The sights which met their eyes as the asses drew them through the city and into the country beyond, were greatly depressing to the travelers—and strange, as well. Wherever people were to be seen, their posture was always the same: the nation was squatting. Apparently all the people were in a stupor for they passed no moving person or animal.
The somber feeling of these scenes bespoke a great tragedy and even the king was silent. Only did he become jovial when the road was clear between towns or villages.
Their highway led them on to the sea where, in the dusk of evening, the wide, cool beach gave them welcome respite.
For many hours the messenger had been silent, but now he spoke.
“Sire, you are now far from any living council, but I pray this night will bring you rest and the answer to our country’s plight. I will retire and rest near at hand.”
The giant young sun was well above the quiet sea when the messenger sought his king and found him sitting on the floor of the chariot, while the two asses squatted grotesquely nearby. At the sight of the messenger, the king smiled broadly and cried, “Eureka! I have it. Go find me a ship and I will go fishing.”