The Ostrich Hunter
The nomad divorced his wife and dismissed her from his tent, giving her a camel.
I chose that mount, instead of an ass, to cross the desert of the bonfires. I was searching for the coral reef sea, where the immortal turtles breed.
I had to deal with a wild people, of a despicable face. They boasted of having been born in the caverns of the earth, where the springs were blinded. They congregated, centuries earlier, around an amphisbaena, the vestige able to walk in opposite directions. Their leaders would not descend from a few light carts.
I was received with strangeness and consternation by those infidels. They foretold my arrival, recalling the announcement of deceased generations. The servants of the cult would precipitate in all directions, showing signs of fear, or they would fall on their face.
I dared approach the most revered idol. It was hollow and sonorous and within it I discovered the precious stone for my king’s diadem.
El cielo de esmalte (1929)
{ José Antonio Ramos Sucre, Obra completa, Caracas: Biblioteca Ayacucho, 1989 }
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