Taguato could tell exactly how old he was: young, not younger, not older. Just young, but he knew the time came for him to become a hunter as the other men did; he was actually quite exited about it. He prepared his own spear, an impeccable one (well, according to him). One would say that his spear would do. Sharpening the spear was a very meticulous job, and Taguato learned to do it quite well, all things considered. He used a special rock for it, and would scrape the tip of the spear with it until it turned pointy and dangerous.
His mother had warned him to be extremely careful; she herself had hunted in the past, and even though they all knew the land like the back of their hands, they were well aware of the many dangers that lay in the depths of the jungle: the "jagua*", the "jarará**", the "mboi shiní***", and other inhabitants that could end one's life in a heartbeat.
The day was cast, which wasn't particularly cheerful for his first hunting ever; but at least it wasn't raining (now that would be a problem, but it wouldn't hold him back). He was to become a hunter first, and then a warrior. Today, it was the first step into a new life. He would bring back a warthog or something even better, and everyone would notice.
He left the ground, and headed to the jungle, following the path everyone knew, and kept walking briskly, feeling the humidity, the pressure, the flies and insects that surrounded him. He was told that he would knew where to head, as long as he remained extremely silent, aware; looking out for footprints, traces, smells, feces, and listening with all the attention a person could pay to that green hellish heaven.
When he finally detoured from the common road (tapé), which was half dirt and half grass, easily recognizable and transitable, when he heard something unusual near a "Yvyra Pyta" (a tree species): up until then all he had seen was some snake molting skin, not unusual when the weather felt like this. But this noise was quite different, captivating: at first it sounded as a pack of animals, which could be quite dangerous for a single hunter on his first hunt (and, for even a group of hunters as well), but as he got carefully closer to the source, the noise was clearly distinguishable: they were steps, but clumsy ones, loud, and not foot steps, they were steps from slow, heavy and clumsy beings.
What started as a hunting was now turning into something far dangerous: these loud-step-beings were not the animals he was looking for, but he couldn't help following the noises those steps made. Maybe they were warriors his own people didn't know about, and if that were the case, he'd have to make sure to go to them with the news: war was not unusual, and his sisters were old and beautiful enough to initiate an expedition from the other ones who lived near the big falls.
As he was getting closer, he could clearly hear some whispering and couldn't make out the words, as it would probably be the nerves, but he would not back down: Taguato would follow them, see who they were, and if, indeed, they were the ones near the big falls, would run back home with all the speed and strenght his body could have, talk to the men, and join them in war. But something, the noise, the whispering, the clumsiness, the weird steps, told him that this was something different, and he continued.
He was approaching the giant "Tajy" (lapacho tree), and that meant he was really far from the tapé , when he could perceive the shapes of the people (those were people, he knew that by then), and suddenly, the shapes stopped. Taguato stopped right there, crouched, even held his breath and held his spear stronger than ever. He knew they spotted him, somehow, he knew it. He felt a rush of courage and was about to stand and run towards home, thinking he would be able to outrun these slow people, and if the caught him, he would kill at least one or two with his fine spear.
None of that happened. The silence was broken by a female voice that uttered unintelligible sounds to Taguato; it was a speech he had never heard. He knew that way down the river there were people who spoke differently and couldn't be understood, but what would they be doing so far from their land? He knew, also, that they where island and river people, they didn't belong to the jungle, at least, that is what his father's father had told them a long time ago.
This female speech was followed by a male voice that also uttered words impossible to understand; all he could notice was the ugliness of the speech: the sounds were, well, wrong. By then, his rush of courage turned into curiosity, as he felt that he was not spotted at all. Maybe this hunt would not bring an animal, but lore. Still crouching, and trying to lower his breathing to a normal pace, he decided it was time to get even closer: the chances of being spotted were much higher, but this, he felt, was worth it.
The symphony of noises the jungle offered as there was light in the land, gave him the chance to get closer, closer enough to see the shapes of these people first, and then see them.
Taguato left his village thinking he would come back a hunter, but because of his discovery, he would never go back there.
YOU ARE READING
ORIGINAL SIN
Short StoryA young native discovers something that will change his life as he goes hunting alone through the jungle and the Paraná river. His discovery will amaze him and lead him to the unknown, challenging his worldview, beliefs and allegiances.
