City of the Beasts (33 page)

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Authors: Isabel Allende

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary

BOOK: City of the Beasts
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Walimai confirmed what they already knew: The tribe was watching the camp, but they had learned to fear the magic of the
nahab
and would not dare challenge them. The warriors were so close they had heard the baby's crying, as well as the call from their dead who had not been given a dignified funeral. The spirits of the murdered men and the woman were still joined with their bodies, said Walimai; they could not let go without a proper ceremony, and without being avenged. Alex explained that the Indians' one hope was to attack by night, because during the day the
nahab
could use the bird of noise and wind to search the Eye of the World until they found them.

"If they attack now, some will die, but otherwise the entire tribe will be exterminated," said Alex. He was ready to lead them and fight at their side; that was why he had been initiated: he, too, was a warrior.

"Chief for war: Tahama. Chief for negotiating with the
nahab
: you," Walimai replied.

"It's too late to negotiate. Ariosto is a murderer."

"You said that some
nahab
are evil and other
nahab
are friends. Where are the friends?" the witch man persisted.

"My grandmother and some of the men in the camp are friends. Captain Ariosto and his soldiers are enemies. We cannot negotiate with them."

"Your grandmother and your friends must negotiate with the enemy
nahab
."

"The friends do not have weapons."

"They have no magic?"

"In the Eye of the World, they do not have much magic. But there are other friends with much magic far away from here, in the cities, in other parts of the world," Alexander argued, frustrated by the limitations of language.

"Then you must go where those friends are," the ancient concluded.

"How? We are trapped here!"

Walimai would not answer any more questions. He sat crouched on his haunches, staring into the night, accompanied by his wife; she had adopted her most transparent form and neither of the two young people could see her. Alex and Nadia passed the hours awake, very close together, trying to keep each other warm, and not speaking because there was little to say. They were thinking of the fate awaiting Kate, César Santos, and the other members of their group. They were thinking of how the People of the Mist were condemned. They were thinking of the centuries-old sloths and the city of gold. They were thinking of the water of health and the crystal eggs. And them? What would become of them, trapped as they were in the jungle?

A gust of terrible odor came to them suddenly, diluted by distance but perfectly recognizable. They jumped to their feet but Walimai did not move, as if he had been expecting it.

"It's the Beasts!" Nadia cried.

"Maybe yes and maybe no," replied the impassive shaman.


The rest of the night was very long. Shortly before dawn the cold was intense, and Nadia and Alex, huddled with Borobá, shivered while the ancient witch man, totally motionless, his eyes lost in the shadows, waited. With the first signs of dawn, the monkeys and birds awakened and Walimai gave the sign to leave. They followed him through the trees, again for some time, until as the sunlight began to pierce the foliage they came to the camp. The bonfire and lanterns had gone out; there were no signs of life and the foul odor still lingered on the air, as if a hundred skunks had sprayed the camp at the same time. Covering their noses, they entered the outer edge of what until only recently had been the peaceful village of Tapirawa-teri. The tents, the table, the kitchen… everything… lay scattered across the ground; the remains of food were tossed everywhere, but no monkey or bird was scrabbling through the debris or the garbage because none dared brave the hideous stench of the Beasts. Even Borobá hung back, shrieking and jumping up and down. Walimai showed the same indifference to the smell that he had to the cold the night before. The young people had no choice but to follow where he led. There was no one, no trace of the members of the expedition, nor of the soldiers, nor of Captain Ariosto, nor of the bodies of the murdered Indians. Weapons, luggage, even Timothy Bruce's cameras were there. They also found a large bloodstain darkening the earth near the tree where Alex had been tied. After a brief inspection, which seemed to leave him very satisfied, Walimai was ready to leave. Alex and Nadia dropped in line behind him without asking any questions, so nauseated by the odor they could barely stagger. As they got some distance away and filled their lungs with the cool morning air, their spirits revived but their temples were pounding and their stomachs were churning. Borobá joined them shortly, and the group plunged into the jungle.


Several days before, on seeing the birds of noise and wind circling in the sky, the inhabitants of Tapirawa-teri had fled from their village, abandoning the spare possessions and domesticated animals that inhibited their ability to hide. Screened by vegetation, they traveled to a safe place and there crafted temporary dwellings in the branches of the trees. The parties of soldiers sent by Ariosto passed by very close without seeing them; but the foreigners' every movement was observed by Tahama's warriors, who blended into the scenery.

Iyomi and Tahama had argued a long time about the
nahab
and the advantage of approaching them as Jaguar and Eagle had advised. It was Iyomi's opinion that her people could not hide forever in the trees, like monkeys. The time had come to visit the
nahab
and accept their gifts and their vaccines; it was inevitable. Tahama thought it was better to die fighting, but Iyomi was chief of chiefs, and finally her judgment prevailed. She had decided to be the first to approach, which was why she came to the camp alone, adorned with the proud crown of yellow feathers to demonstrate to the foreigners who was in charge. Seeing Jaguar and Eagle—who had returned from the sacred mountain—among them was reassuring to her. They were friends and they could translate; that way the poor creatures dressed in stinking cloth would not feel lost in her presence. The
nahab
welcomed her; no doubt they were impressed with her regal bearing and her many wrinkles, proof of how long she had lived and of the knowledge she had acquired. Despite the meal they offered, the ancient chief found herself obliged to demand that they leave the Eye of the World, because they were a nuisance there. That was her last word; she was not prepared to negotiate. She retired majestically with her bowl of meat and corn, certain of having terrorized the
nahab
with the weight of her supreme dignity.

In view of the success of Iyomi's visit, the rest of the tribe worked up their courage and followed her example. They returned to the site of their village, overrun now by foreigners who obviously did not know the most elementary rule of prudence and courtesy: You did not ever visit a
shabono
without being invited. There the Indians saw the great shiny birds, the tents, and the strange
nahab
about whom they had heard such horrifying stories. Those strangers with their rude behavior deserved a good clubbing, but by Iyomi's order the Indians were to exercise patience with them. They accepted their food and their gifts, so as not to offend them, then left to hunt and harvest honey and fruits so they could repay the gifts received, as was proper.

The next day, once Iyomi was sure that Jaguar and Eagle were still there, she authorized the tribe to present themselves once more to the
nahab
and be vaccinated. Neither she nor anyone else could explain what happened then. They could not understand why the young foreign friends, who had insisted so strongly on the need for vaccination, suddenly tried to prevent it. They heard an unknown sound, like brief thunder. They saw that when the vials burst, the Rahakanariwa leaped free and in his invisible form attacked the Indians, who fell dead without being touched by arrows or clubs. In the violence of the battle, the others escaped however they could, in disarray and confusion. They didn't know who were friends and who were enemies.

Finally Walimai came to give them an explanation. He said that young Eagle and Jaguar were friends, and that they must help them, but that all the others might be enemies. He said that the Rahakanariwa was loose and could take on any form; it would take very powerful conjuring to send him back to the kingdom of the spirits. He said they needed to call on the gods. Then the two gigantic sloths, which had not returned to the sacred
tepui
but were ambling around the Eye of the World, were summoned and during the night led to the ruined village. They would never have gone near an Indian dwelling on their own account; they hadn't done that in thousands and thousands of years. Walimai had to convince them that it was no longer the village of the People of the Mist because it had been profaned by the presence of the
nahab
and by the killing that had taken place on its soil. Tapirawa-teri would have to be rebuilt in a different part of the Eye of the World, far from there, where human souls and the spirits of the ancestors would feel at ease, and where evil did not contaminate the noble earth. The Beasts were given the chore of spraying the camp of the
nahab
, immobilizing friends and foe alike.

Tahama's warriors had to wait many hours for the smell to disperse enough for them to approach. First they collected the bodies of the Indians and took them to be prepared for a proper funeral; then they came back for the others and dragged them away, including the corpse of Captain Ariosto, slashed by the awesome claws of the gods.


One by one, the
nahab
were waking up. They found themselves in a clearing in the jungle, lying on the ground and so dazed that they did not remember their names. And even less how they had got where they were. Kate was the first to react. She had no idea where she was, or what had happened to the camp, the helicopter, the captain, or—most of all—to her grandson. She remembered the baby, and looked around the surrounding area but couldn't find him. She shook the others, who were slowly coming to. All of them had terrible pains in their heads and joints, and were vomiting and coughing and crying. They felt as if they'd been beaten, but could find no marks of violence.

The last to open his eyes was Professor Leblanc, who was so deeply affected by the experience he couldn't stand up. Kate reflected that a good cup of coffee laced with a shot of vodka would do them all good, but they had nothing of any kind to drink. Their clothing, their hair, their skin reeked from the stench of the Beast; they had to drag themselves to a nearby stream and soak for a good while. The five soldiers were lost without their weapons or their captain, so when César Santos assumed command, they obeyed without hesitation. Timothy Bruce, who was very upset at having been so near the Beast and not having got a photograph, wanted to go back to camp and look for his cameras, but he didn't know which direction to walk in and no one seemed inclined to go with him. That phlegmatic Englishman who had accompanied Kate through wars, cataclysms, and many adventures, seldom lost his bored air, but recent events had made him grouchy. Kate and César Santos could think of nothing but her grandson and his daughter. Where were they?

The guide inspected the site thoroughly and found broken branches, feathers, seeds, and other signs of the People of the Mist. He concluded that the Indians had brought them there, which had actually saved their lives, since otherwise they would have died of asphyxiation or attack by the Beast. And if that was so, he couldn't explain why the Indians hadn't seized the opportunity to kill them and get revenge for their dead. Had he been in any condition to think, Professor Leblanc would have been forced once again to revise his thesis about these tribes, but the poor anthropologist was flat on his back, moaning and half dead from nausea and an aching head.

Everyone was sure that the People of the Mist would return, and that was exactly what happened: Suddenly the entire tribe emerged from the bush. Their incredible ability to move in absolute silence and materialize in seconds allowed them to surround the foreigners before they knew what was happening. The soldiers responsible for the death of the Indians were trembling like babies. Tahama walked toward them, staring straight at them, but did not touch them. Maybe he thought that such low forms of life did not merit a clubbing from a warrior as noble as himself.

Iyomi stepped forward and delivered a long speech in her native tongue, which no one understood, then seized Kate's shirt lapels and, pushing her face as close as she could, began shouting something. The only thing the writer could think to do was to take the old woman with the ring of yellow feathers by the shoulders and shout back in English. There they were, the two grandmothers trading incomprehensible insults, until Iyomi got tired, turned away and took a seat beneath a tree. The other Indians also sat down, talking among themselves, sharing the fruit, nuts, and mushrooms they had found among the roots. Tahama and several other warriors were being vigilant but not aggressive. Kate recognized the baby she had taken care of in a young woman's arms and was pleased that the child had survived the fatal stench of the Beast and was back at the breast of one of its own.

By midafternoon, Walimai and Alex and Nadia appeared. Kate and César Santos ran over to meet them, and hugged them hard, since they'd been afraid they might never see them again. With Nadia there, communication improved; she could translate and was able to clear up a few points. The foreigners learned that the Indians did not as yet relate the death of their companions with the soldiers' firearms, since they had never seen weapons. All they wanted was to rebuild their village at another site, consume ashes of their dead, and recapture the peace they had always known. They wanted to send the Rahakanariwa back to his place among the demons and banish the
nahab
from the Eye of the World.

Professor Leblanc, somewhat recovered but still not in top form, took over. He had lost his Aussie hat with the feathers and, like everyone else, he was filthy and his clothing reeked. Nadia translated, cheating a little, so the Indians would not believe that all
nahab
were as arrogant as this little man.

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