Iraçéma: the Honey-lips, a Legend of Brazil/Chapter 9

by José de Alencar

CHAPTER IX.

 

The morning sleep weighed down the eyelids of the Pagé like the fair-weather mists hang at daybreak over the deep caverns in the mountain-side. Martim hesitated, but the sound of his step reached the old man's ear and startled his decrepit frame.

"Araken sleeps!" murmured the warrior, slackening his pace.

The venerable Pagé remained motionless.

"The Pagé slumbers because Tupan hath turned his face to the Earth, and the Light hath frightened away the evil spirits of Darkness. But sleep sits lightly on the eyes of Araken, like the smoke of the Sapé-grass^[1] on the top of the Serra. If the stranger came to see the Pagé, speak; his ears are open."

"The guest came to tell Araken that he is about to go forth."

"The stranger is Lord in the wigwam of Araken; all the roads are open to him. May Tupan guide him to the Taba of his race."

Cauby and Iraçéma came up.

"Cauby has returned," said the Tabajára brave. "He brings to Araken the best of his game."

"The warrior Cauby is a mighty huntsman of the mountains and the forests. The eyes of his father are proud to dwell upon him."

The old man opened his eyes, but they soon closed again.

"Daughter of Araken! choose for thy guest the Return Gift, and prepare the Moquem^[2] for the journey. If the stranger need a guide, Cauby, the Lord of the Path,^[3] will accompany him."

And sleep once more closed his eyes.

While Cauby hung up the quarry over the smoke, Iraçéma took her own white hammock of cotton fringed with feathers, and folded it into the Urú of plaited straw.

Martim awaited her at the doorway of the wigwam, and the maiden came to him and said—

"Warrior that takest away the sleep from Iraçéma's eyes, take also her hammock. When he sleeps in it, may dreams of Iraçéma speak with his heart."

"Thy hammock, maiden of the Tabajáras, shall be my companion in the wilds. Let the cold wind of night blow fiercely, it will protect the stranger with its warmth and breathe the sweet perfume of Iracema's bosom."

Cauby went forth to see his wigwam, which he had not visited since his return. Iraçéma departed to prepare provisions for the voyage. There remained in the cabin only the Pagé, who was sleeping aloud, and the youth with his sorrows.

The sun was setting when Iraçéma's brother returned from the great wigwam.

"The day ends sadly,"^[4] quoth Cauby. "The night-shade is already falling. It is time to depart."

The virgin laid her hand gently on the hammock of Araken.

"He goes," murmured her trembling lips.

The Pagé stood upright in the midst of the wigwam and lit his Calumet. He and the youth exchanged the pipe of farewell.

"Well-go^[5] the Guest, even as he was welcome to the wigwam of Araken."

The old man walked to the door and puffed forth a cloud of smoke upon the wind. When it had dispersed in thin air he said—

"May the Jurupary^[6] hide himself, and allow the guest of the Pagé to pass unmolested."

Araken returned to his hammock and slept again.

The youth took his arms, which seemed to be heavier than when he had first hung them to the stakes round the wigwam, and prepared to depart.

First went Cauby; at some little distance followed the stranger, and directly after him Iraçéma.

They descended the hill and entered the dark forest. Already the Sabiá of the wold, sweetest songster of eventide, deep hidden in the thick myrtle-brake,^[7] warbled the prelude of her plaintive song.

The virgin sighed forth—

"The evening is the Sorrow of the Sun. The days of Iraçéma will be long evenings without a morn, until the Shadow of the Great Night shall fall upon her."

The youth turned towards her. His lip was silent, but his eyes spoke. One tear coursed down his manly cheek, like the drops which during the summer heat trickle over the scarped rock.

Cauby walked on and disappeared in the dense foliage.

The bosom of Araken's daughter heaved like the overflowing billow fringed with surf, and she sobbed aloud. But in her soul, so dark with sorrow, burned a faint spark which lit up her cheeks. Thus in the blackness of night a firedrake glimmers over the white sands of the high-land plateau.

"Stranger, take the last smile of Iraçéma—and fly!"

The warrior caught her in his arms and placed his lips to hers. They were as twin fruits of the Araça^[8] shrub, both sprung from the womb of the same flower.

The voice of Cauby called the stranger by name, and Iraçéma remained clinging for support to the trunk of a palm.

 

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1. Sapé, leaves for thatch ; coarse grass which grows on worn-out lands.
2. Moquem, in the original, from mocaem. The Brazilian Indians roasted their game before a bright fire to prevent its putrefying when they took it on a journey, and in their tents they hung it over the smoke.
3. Senhor do caminho, "Lord of the Path," is what the aborigines called their guide.
4. O dia vae ficar triste. The Tupys called evening Caruca, a word composed of "Che carac acy," "I am sad." They drew their image of grief from the twilight and the approaching gloom.
5. In Portuguese they can say, "Well-gone be the guest as his welcoming;" but we have no single English word as a pendant to welcome.
6. Jurupary, a demon, which word literally means "crooked mouth" (juru, a mouth, and apara, crooked, deformed).
7. In the original Ubaia, a myrtle with a healthy wholesome fruit (uba, a fruit, and aia, good).
8. Araça, a Brazilian shrub with fruit of the guava family.