Path of the Jaguar

"The jaguar." Joseph had come up behind her to gaze with admiration at the powerful sculpture with its sleek, taut lines and glittering stone eyes. "A classic example of pre-Columbian art."

He translated the Spanish inscription below the jaguar for Lennea: "By day the Supreme Ruler governed the sky, but at night he took the form of a jaguar and descended into the underworld."

Lennea had memorized many facts about the Mayans, but the heart of their culture had remained a mystery to her. "I've never understood the Mayan concept of dualistic gods," she said aloud.

"How could such a benevolent god become a creature of evil when darkness fell?"

She turned to Joseph, seeking an answer. His eyes were as black as the sculptured jaguar. "To the Mayans, the jaguar was not evil. He was a protector who led the spirits of the dead safely through the darkness into the underworld. The path of the jaguar always leads from darkness---into the light." Somberly he added, "Eventually we must all follow the jaguar."

She laughed uneasily. "You seem to be an expert on Mayan mythology. And jaguars." Stealing a sidelong glance at him, she thought how his lean, sinewy strength reminded her of the powerful beast--protective, even playful, and yet dangerous.