All went well and when, the sluice-way having been opened, the great wheel commenced ponderously to revolve and the gears meshed and rumbled and I fed a bundle of cane stalks into the rollers and the juice streamed out into the waiting trough, the ovation accorded the seeming miracle exceeded my wildest expectations. The people seemed actually to have gone mad. They fought merely to bathe in the water that flowed from below the wheel, they struggled for the privilege of sipping the muddy juice that flowed from the rollers; they cast flowers, fruits, even their most prized possessions into the sluice-way. Even the prince and Itza, who knew it was nothing more than a thing of wood and metal, were awed and made obeisance to it, while old Nohul Voh, who had had a hand in its construction and understood it perfectly, held up his arms, threw back his leonine mane and shouted praises and thanks to Chac-Mool, the God of Waters, for so manifesting his favor to the people of Mictolan. Even old Kinchi Haman had come to witness the new marvel, but no pleasure, no delight, no surprise showed upon his horrible features. His eyes burned, I saw his hands clench and unclench, and I knew that my success had only added to his hatred and his jealousy. But Kinchi Haman was no longer of any great importance to anyone. The people who had formerly feared him seemed no longer in dread of him. His temple was almost deserted when he held his ceremonies, few even made obeisance to him. Ever since I had humiliated him at the temple of Kukulcan, he had lost prestige, respect, the power to instill fear or obedience. I could not blame him for detesting me, for feeling jealous, and I rather pitied him. But it was his own fault. Had he been reasonable, decent, existing conditions never would have occurred. From the first he had been tyrannical, overbearing, threatening and jealous. But neither the people nor myself had time to bother our heads over the priest. The people had gone mechanics mad. Wonderful imitators that they were, they worked like beavers making windmills and water-wheels for themselves, and in an incredibly short time, the valley was dotted with windmills; at every available point on the river and its tributaries a water-wheel rumbled and ground; hand-carts and barrows were trundled through the streets and across the fields, and I was besieged with requests, prayers and supplications to show new wonders to the people. As I gazed across the valley and saw these signs of a dawning use of laborsaving devices, I chuckled at my own thoughts. * * * * *