An Eagle Flight
Copyright© 2024 by José Rizal
The Crane.
It was indeed not an ordinary crane that the Mongol had built for letting the enormous cornerstone of the school into the trench. The framework was complicated and the cables passed over extraordinary pulleys. Flags, streamers, and garlands of flowers, however, hid the mechanism. By means of a cleverly contrived capstan, the enormous stone held suspended over the open trench could be raised or lowered with ease by a single man.
“See!” said the Mongol to Señor Juan, inserting the bar and turning it. “See how I can manipulate the thing up here and unaided!”
Señor Juan was full of admiration.
“Who taught you mechanics?” he asked.
“My father, my late father,” replied the man, with his peculiar smile, “and Don Saturnino, the grandfather of Don Crisóstomo, taught him.”
“You must know then about Don Saturnino——”
“Oh, many things! Not only did he beat his workmen and expose them to the sun, but he knew how to awaken sleepers and put waking men to sleep. Ah, you will see presently what he could teach! You will see!”
On a table with Persian spread, beside the trench, were the things to be put into the cornerstone, and the glass box and leaden cylinder which were to preserve for the future these souvenirs, this mummy of an epoch.
Under two long booths near at hand were sumptuous tables, one for the school-children, without wine, and heaped with fruits; the other for the distinguished visitors. The booths were joined by a sort of bower of leafy branches, where were chairs for the musicians, and tables with cakes, confitures, and carafes of water, for the public in general.
The crowd, gay in garments of many colors, was massed under the trees to avoid the ardent rays of the sun, and the children, to better see the ceremony of the dedication, had climbed up among the branches.
Soon bands were heard in the distance. The Mongol carefully examined his construction; he seemed nervous. A man with the appearance of a peasant standing near him on the edge of the excavation and close beside the capstan watched all his movements. It was Elias, well disguised by his salakot and rustic costume.
The musicians arrived, preceded by a crowd of old and young in motley array. Behind came the alcalde, the municipal guard officers, the monks, and the Spanish Government clerks. Ibarra was talking with the alcalde; Captain Tiago, the alférez, the curate and a number of the rich country gentlemen accompanied the ladies, whose gay parasols gleamed in the sunshine.
As they approached the trench, Ibarra felt his heart beat. Instinctively he raised his eyes to the strange scaffolding. The Mongol saluted him respectfully, and looked at him intently a moment. Ibarra recognized Elias through his disguise, and the mysterious helmsman, by a significant glance, recalled the warning in the church.
The curate put on his robes and began the office. The one-eyed sacristan held his book; a choir boy had in charge the holy water and sprinkler. The men uncovered, and the crowd stood so silent that, though the father read low, his voice was heard to tremble.
The manuscripts, journals, money, and medals to be preserved in remembrance of this day had been placed in the glass box and the box itself hermetically sealed within the leaden cylinder.
“Señor Ibarra, will you place the box in the stone? The curate is waiting for you,” said the alcalde in Ibarra’s ear.
“I should do so with great pleasure,” said Ibarra, “but it would be a usurpation of the honor; that belongs to the notary, who must draw up the written process.”
The notary gravely took the box, descended the carpeted stairway which led to the bottom of the trench, and with due solemnity deposited his burden in the hollow of the stone already laid. The curate took the sprinkler and sprinkled the stone with holy water.
Each one was now to deposit his trowel of cement on the surface of the lower stone, to seal it to the stone held suspended by the crane when that should be lowered.
Ibarra offered the alcalde a silver trowel, on which was engraved the date of the fête, but before using it His Excellency pronounced a short allocution in Castilian.
“Citizens of San Diego,” he said, “we have the honor of presiding at a ceremony whose importance you know without explanations. We are founding a school, and the school is the basis of society, the book wherein is written the future of each race.
“Citizens of San Diego! Thank God, who has given you these priests! Thank the Mother Country, who spreads civilization in these fertile isles and protects them with the covering of her glorious mantle. Thank God, again, who has enlightened you by his priests from his divine Word.
“And now that the first stone of this building has been blessed, we, the alcalde of this province, in the name of His Majesty the King, whom God guard; in the name of the illustrious Spanish Government, and under the protection of its spotless and ever-victorious flag, consecrate this act and begin the building of this school!
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