To explain this further, I add that in all primitive American tribes, there is no notion of natural death. No man “dies,” he is always “killed.” Death as a necessary incident in the course of nature is entirely unknown to them. When a person dies by disease, they suppose he has been killed by some sorcery, or some unknown venomous creature.
The journey to Mictlan was long and perilous. The soul first passed through a narrow defile between two mountains which touched each other, where it was liable to be crushed; it then reached a path by which lay in wait a serpent; next was a spot where a huge green lizard whose name was “The Flower of Heat,” was concealed. After this, eight deserts stretched their wild wastes, and beyond these, eight steep hills reared their toilsome sides into the region of snow. Over their summits blew a wind so keen that it was called “The Wind of Knives.” Much did the poor soul suffer, exposed to this bitter cold, unless many coats of cotton and other clothing were burnt upon his tomb for use at this lofty pass.
These hills descended, the shivering ghost reached the river called “By the Nine Waters.” It was broad, and deep, and swift. Little chance had the soul of crossing its dark current, was the aid for this purpose forgotten during life, or by the mourners. This aid was a dog, of the species trained by the Aztecs and held in high esteem by them.
But the dog must be of a particular color; white would not answer, else he would say, when brought to the brink, “As for me, I am already washed.” Black would fail as much, for the animal would say, “I am too black myself to help another wash.” The only color was red, and for this reason great numbers of reddish curs were fostered by the Aztecs, and one was sacrificed at each funeral. Clinging to it, the soul crossed the river and reached the further brink in safety, being purged and cleansed in the transit of all that would make it unfit for the worlds beyond.
These worlds were threefold. One was called “The nine Abodes of the Dead,” where the ordinary mass of mankind were said to go and forever abide. The second was paradise, Tlalocan, the dwelling-place of the Tlalocs, the gods of fertility and rain. It was full of roses and fruits. No pain was there, and no sorrow. Scorching heat and cold were alike unknown. Green fields, rippling brooks, balmy airs and perpetual joy, filled the immortal days of the happy souls in Tlalocan. Those who were destined for its Elysian years were divinely designated by the diseases or accidents of which they died. These were of singular variety. All struck by lightning or wounded, the leprous, the gouty, the dropsical, and what at first sight seems curious, all those who died of the forms of venereal diseases, were believed to pass directly to this Paradise.