Page:Iracéma, the honey-lips (1886).djvu/104

When they were returning, the Chief of the Fishers, who swims in the sea-waters like the agile Camoropim, from whom he took his name, casts himself into the waves and dives. Before the foam had passed away from the place where he disappeared, the enemy՚s canoe had sunk as if it had been swallowed by a whale.

The night came and brought with it repose.

At dawn of day, the Maracatim was flying in the horizon towards the banks of the Mearim. Jacaúna arrived, not in time for the fight, but for the feast of victory.

At the same hour that the songs of the Pytiguára warriors were celebrating the conquest of the Guaraciábas, the first son born to this Land of Liberty begotten by the blood of the white race, saw the light in the plains of Porangába.

Iraçéma thought that her bosom would burst. She sought the banks of the river where grows the Coqueiro-palm, and clasped the trunk of the tree till a tiny cry inundated her whole being with joy.

The young mother, proud of so much happiness, took the tender one in her arms, and with him cast herself into the limpid waters of the river. Then she gave him the delicate breast, and her eyes devoured him with sorrow and love.

"Thou art Moacyr,^[1] the fruit of my anguish."

The Jandáia perched at the top of the palm tree repeated "Moacyr;" and from that time the friendly bird united in its song the names of both mother and son.