Iraçéma: the Honey-lips, a Legend of Brazil/Chapter 16

by José de Alencar

CHAPTER XVI.

 

The moon's white disc rose slowly above the horizon. The brightness of the sun pales the virgin of the heavens, as the warrior's love blanches the wife's cheek.

"Jacy!"^[1]... "Our mother!" exclaimed the Tabajára warriors. And brandishing their bows, they chanted the song of the new moon, discharging at her showers of arrows.

"Thou art come into the heavens, O mother of the braves! Thou turnest thy face once more to behold thy sons. Thou bringest waters to fill the rivers, and pulp to the Cujú-nut.

"Thou art come, O bride of the sun! Thy daughters, the virgins of the earth, smile at thy approach. May thy soft light bring love into the hearts of the brave, and make fruitful the young mother's bosom."

The evening was falling. The women and children sported in the vast Ocara. The youths who had not yet won their name by notable deeds were running races in the valley.

The warriors followed Irapúam to the Sacred Wood, where the Pagé and his daughter awaited them for the mysteries of the Jurema.

Iraçéma had already lit the fires of joy !^[2]

Araken remained statue-like and ecstatic in the centre of a cloud of smoke.

Each warrior on arriving placed at his feet an offering for Tupan. One brought the succulent game, another water-flour, a third Piracem^[3] of the Trahira,^[4] and so on each in turn. The old Pagé, for whom were the gifts, received them with disdain.

When all had taken seat round the Great Fire, the priest of Tupan commanded silence by a gesture, and three times pronounced aloud the dread name, as though to fill himself with the God who inspired him.

"Tupan! Tupan! Tupan!"

Three times the distant echoes answered the name.

Iraçéma came with the Igaçaba full of the green liquor. Araken decreed to each warrior his dreams, and distributed the wine of the Jurema, which was to transport the Tabajára brave to the happy land.

The mighty hunter dreamt that stags and Pácas^[5] ran to meet his arrows and transfixed themselves; at length, tired of wounding them, he dug the Bucan^[6] in the earth, and roasted so much game that a thousand warriors could not finish it in a year.

The conqueror of hearts dreamt that the most beautiful of the Tabajára virgins left their fathers' Wigwams to follow him, slaves to his will and pleasure. Never had the hammock of any chief witnessed the reality of such wild warm visions.

The hero's vision was of tremendous struggles and fearful combats, whence he always issued victorious and covered with fame and glory.

The old man saw his youth renewed in his numerous offspring, like the dry trunk acquiring new strength and sap, and still sprouting into buds and flowers.

All felt such lively, such lasting happiness, that in one night they lived many moons.

Their lips murmured, their gestures spoke; and the Pagé, who saw and heard all, gathered from their unveiled souls their most secret thoughts.

When Iraçéma had offered to each brave the wine of Tupan, she left the wood. The rites did not permit her to be present at the sleep of the warriors, nor hear and see their dreams.

She went her way straight to the cabin, where Martim awaited her.

"Let the white warrior take up his arms. It is time to go."

"Lead me to my brother Poty."

The bride made straight for the valley, the Christian following her. They reached the rock base, which fell sloping with clumps of foliage upon the margin of the lake.

"Let the stranger call his brother."

Martim imitated the cry of the seagull.

The stone which closed the entrance of the grotto fell, and the figure of Poty the brave appeared in the gloom.

The two brothers pressed forehead to forehead and breast to breast, showing that they had but one heart.

"Poty is happy because he sees his brother, whom the bad spirit of the forest had borne away from his sight."

"Happy is the brave who has a friend at his side like the valiant Poty; all the other warriors will envy him."

Iraçéma sighed, thinking that the affection of the Pytiguára sufficed to the happiness of the stranger.

"The Tabajára braves sleep. The daughter of Araken will guide the strangers."

The bride led the way; the two warriors followed. behind. When they had gone about the distance of a heron's flight, the Pytiguára chief began to be uneasy, and whispered in the ear of the Christian—

"My brother had better send the daughter of the Pagé back to the Wigwam of her father. The warriors could march quicker without her."

Martim felt a sudden sadness; but the voice of prudence and friendship prevailed in his heart. He advanced to Iraçéma and spoke softly to soothe her sorrow.

"The deeper the root in the earth, the harder it is to withdraw the plant. Each step Iraçéma takes on the road of farewell is a root which she plants in the heart of her guest."

"Iraçéma would accompany him as far as the borders of the Tabajára land, in order to return with more calmness in her breast."

Martim did not answer. They continued their march, and as they walked the night fell, the stars paled, and finally the freshness of dawn gladdened the forest; the morning clouds, purely white as cotton, appeared in the heavens.

Poty looked at the forest and stopped. Martim understood, and said to Iraçéma—

"Thy guest no longer treads on the land of the Tabajáras. It is the right moment to bid him farewell."

 

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1. Jacy, the moon, literally our mother. Amongst the savages the moon was a month, and at the change they held their feast.
2. Fogos de alegria. The savages called their fire-faggots tory and toryba. A joy-feast was a great number of fires.
3. In the original farinha d'agua. This is a sort of flour like tapioca, which the Indians used to eat mixed with water.
4. Piracem de trahira. Trahira is a river fish. Pira caém means fish roasted.
5. Pácas (Cavia páca), a small rodent in Brazil like a pig two months old; its flesh is eaten.
6. Bucan is a Tupy word for a way of grilling flesh, which the French of Maranhão turn into boucaner, and whence comes our English buccaneer.