Ángel disappeared into the reeds like a frightened guatín.
Braulio was a young boy of my age. Two months ago he had come from the province to accompany his uncle, and he had been madly in love, for a long time, with his cousin Tránsito.
The physiognomy of the nephew had all the nobility that made the old man's interesting; but the most remarkable thing about it was a pretty mouth, without yet a goatee, whose feminine smile contrasted with the manly energy of the other features. Meek of character, handsome, and indefatigable in his work, he was a treasure to José, and the most suitable husband for Tránsito.
Madame Louise and the girls came out to greet me at the door of the hut, laughing and affectionate. Our frequent dealings over the past few months had made the girls less shy with me. Joseph himself on our hunts, that is, on the battlefield, exercised a paternal authority over me, all of which disappeared when they came to the house, as if our loyal and simple friendship were a secret.
–At last, at last! -said Madame Louise, taking me by the arm to lead me into the sitting-room, "seven days!
The girls looked at me smiling mischievously.
–But Jesus, how pale he is," exclaimed Louisa, looking at me more closely. That's no good; if you came here often, you'd be the size of a fat man.
–And what do I look like to you? -I said to the girls.
–I say," said Transito. -said Transito: "Well, what are we going to think of him, if he's over there studying and…
–We have had so many good things for you," interrupted Lucia: "we left the first badea of the new bush damaged, waiting for you: on Thursday, thinking you were coming, we had such a good custard for you....
–And what a peje, eh Luisa? -added José; "if that has been the trial; we have not known what to do with him. But he has had reason not to come," continued he, in a grave tone; "there has been reason; and as you will soon invite him to spend a whole day with us? won't you, Braulio?
–Yes, yes, let's make peace and talk about it. When is the big day, Mrs. Luisa? When is it, Tránsito?
She was as mad as a hatter, and wouldn't have looked up to see her boyfriend for all the gold in the world.
–That takes time," said Luisa; "don't you see that the little house needs whitewashing and the doors put on? It will be the day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, for Tránsito is her devotee.
–And when is that?
–And you don't know? Well, on the twelfth of December. Haven't these guys told you that they want to make you their godfather?
–No, and the delay in giving me such good news I do not forgive Transit.
–I told Braulio to tell you, because my father thought it was better that way.
–I am as grateful to you for this choice as you cannot imagine; but it is in the hope that you will soon make me a compadre.
Braulio looked most tenderly at his beautiful bride, and, embarrassed, she hurried off to arrange lunch, taking Lucia with her.
My meals at José's house were no longer like the one I described on another occasion: I was part of the family; and without any table apparatus, except the one piece of cutlery that was always given to me, I received my ration of frisoles, mazamorra, milk and chamois from the hands of Mrs. Luisa, sitting no more and no less than José and Braulio, on a bench made of guadua root. It was not without difficulty that I got them used to treating me like this.
Years later, as I travelled through the mountains of Joseph's country, I saw, at sunset, cheerful peasants arrive at the hut where I was given hospitality: after praising God before the venerable head of the family, they waited around the hearth for the supper that the old and affectionate mother was distributing: a plate was enough for each pair of spouses; and the little ones were making pinafores leaning on their parents' knees. And I turned my eyes away from these patriarchal scenes, which reminded me of the last happy days of my youth....
Lunch was succulent as usual, and seasoned with conversation that revealed Braulio and José's impatience to start the hunt.
It was about ten o'clock when, with everyone ready, Lucas loaded with the cold meat that Luisa had prepared for us, and after José's entrances and exits to put cabuya cubes and other things that he had forgotten, we set off.
There were five of us hunters: the mulatto Tiburcio, a labourer at the Chagra; Lucas, a Neivano from a neighbouring hacienda; José, Braulio and myself. We were all armed with shotguns. Those of the first two were shotguns, and excellent, of course, according to them. José and Braulio also carried lances, carefully fitted with spears.
There was not a useful dog left in the house: they all, two by two, swelled the expeditionary party, howling with pleasure; and even cook Martha's favourite, Pigeon, whom the rabbits feared with blindness, stuck out his neck to be counted in the number of the skilful; but Joseph dismissed him with a zumba! followed by some humiliating reproaches.
Luisa and the girls were uneasy, especially Tránsito, who knew that it was her boyfriend who would be in the greatest danger, as his suitability for the case was indisputable.
Taking advantage of a narrow, tangled trail, we began to ascend the northern bank of the river. Its slanting riverbed, if such can be called the jungle bottom of the gully, hemmed in by crags on the tops of which grew, as on roofs, curling ferns and reeds entangled by flowering creepers, was obstructed at intervals by huge stones, through which the currents escaped in swift waves, white gushes and whimsical plumage.
We had gone little more than half a league, when José, stopping at the mouth of a wide, dry ditch, walled in by high cliffs, examined some badly gnawed bones scattered on the sand: they were those of the lamb that had been used as bait by the wild beast the day before. Braulio preceded us, and José and I went deeper into the ditch. The tracks were rising. Braulio, after about a hundred rods of climbing, stopped, and without looking at us motioned for us to stop. He listened to the rumours of the jungle; sucked in all the air his chest could hold; looked up at the high canopy that the cedars, jiguas and yarumos formed above us, and walked on with slow, silent steps. He stopped again after a while; repeated the examination he had made at the first station; and showing us the scratches on the trunk of a tree rising from the bottom of the ditch, he said, after a new examination of the tracks: "This is the way he came out: it is known to be well eaten and well baquiano". The chamba ended twenty rods ahead by a wall from the top of which it was known, from the hole dug at the foot, that on rainy days the streams of the foothills would flow down from there.
Against my better judgement, we looked for the river bank again, and continued up it. Soon Braulio found the tiger's tracks on a beach, and this time they went all the way to the shore.
It was necessary to make sure whether the beast had passed that way to the other side, or whether, prevented by the currents, which were already very strong and impetuous, it had continued up the bank where we were, which was more likely.
Braulio, shotgun cocked on his back, forded the stream, tying a rejojo to his waist, the end of which José held to prevent a misstep from rolling the boy into the immediate waterfall.
There was a profound silence, and we silenced the occasional impatient yelp from the dogs.
–There's no trace here," said Braulio after examining the sands and undergrowth.
As he stood up, turned towards us, on the top of a crag, we understood from
