By Catten Carter
This is the sad but true story about Santiago, and the pink bird we call the Flamingo.
Long ago I was traveling north in the Jungle to hunt. I traveled for days and days, but the prey was scarce, so I ended further north than I ever been.
One evening, sitting by my fire, I heard a faint moan in the distance. I went to examine, and I saw a man wounded by a Jaguar. I dragged him to camp and cleaned his wounds as Whisper had taught me.
When he woke up, he told me he was out hunting too. An Elder in his tribe had died, and he was sent to find a pink bird they use in their burying ritual, the Flamingo.
I was curious so I asked him why this bird was so special, and as the sun faded, he told me about the origin of his tribe and the story of Santiago.
Many hundred years ago, the north of the jungle was ruled by a great Chief. His tribe counted many thousands of hunters, their wives and their children, and his lands reached as far as anyone could see. The chief was a good chief. He was kind to his people, liked by all, but also ruthless to enemies or people that betrayed him.
One day a group of warriors came to that part of the jungle. They had traveled by ship from a country far, far away; in search of the yellow stones, we collect from the river. Amongst those people was a young warrior named Santiago. He was from a poor family and like all people in his country, his heart was filled with desire for the yellow rocks so he could return to his country a rich man.
The group of warriors quickly found the Chief’s tribe and asked for the yellow rocks, but the rocks were sacred to the Chief and his people, and they would not tell where they could be found.
The warriors were furious and started killing men, women and children, but Santiago saw that it was wrong and ran into the jungle where he was captured. The tribe hunters were many and soon overwhelmed the warriors, killing them all until only Santiago was left alive.
The hunters took Santiago to the great Chief who was furious by what had happened. He punished Santiago making him work in his mine, digging up yellow rocks, day after day.
Santiago was strong and dug up many golden rocks, and after each day he brough them all to the Chief. There he caught the eye of the Chief’s daughter, Atlacoya. Each day she saw Santiago, they talked long, and as the months passed by, her heart became filled with love. Santiago felt the same and the Chief noticed this.
Impressed with Santiago’s hard work and his love for his daughter, he set him free, and not long after, Santiago and Atlacoya married with the Chef’s blessing.
Their love was strong, and not long after they had their first child, a girl. They named her Lucia after Santiago’s mother. Less than a year passed before Atlacoya also gave birth to a boy and they named him Pablo after Santiago’s father.
Years went by and Santiago and Atlacoya were always together, they were well liked by the tribe and had many friends that Santiago and Atlacoya came to regard as their brothers and sisters. Santiago never forgot about the yellow rocks though and while his heart was full of love for Atlacoya and their children, there was still a small space with greed for the yellow rocks.
The Chief, happy for his grandchildren and the love he saw in his daughter’s eyes, gave Santiago and his tribe brothers the responsibility of guarding the sacred rocks, but Santiago couldn’t resist and started taking home the rocks to Atlacoya and they hid them in a hole behind their hut.
The Chief soon found out, and furious by the betrayal asked Santiago and Atlacoya where the rocks were, but Santiago pretended that he didn’t know. Atlacoya, in love with Santiago, said the same even though she knew that it was wrong.
The Chief said, “If you tell me where the rocks are, I will only banish you, but if you don’t, you give me no choice but to kill you and your family for I cannot let my people see, that it is ok to betray me. Please, tell me and allow me to save your lives.”
Santiago, thinking the Chief wouldn’t kill his daughter, kept denying and Atlacoya kept lying for her husband, so the Chief ordered the execution of them both. The Chief’s best hunters took Santiago and Atlacoya to the middle of the village and took aim with their bows.
Atlacoya took Santiago’s hand and looked into his eyes, and he regretted his greed and betrayal. The hunters’ arrows pierced their bodies and they fell to the ground together. Atlacoya closed her eyes slowly and as they died Santiago’s thoughts were not of the yellow rocks but of Atlacoya and his children.
The brothers and sisters heard of their death, hurried and took Lucia and Pablo far south into the jungle, outside the Chief’s reach. Two of them stayed behind hidden and during the night they carried their bodies south to the others and built a big fire where they laid Santiago and Atlacoya next to each other.
The brothers lit the fire and as the flames consumed the bodies, they danced the burial dance of Santiago’s home country and screamed their sorrow into the night. They stomped their feet in agony, and a giant flock of pink birds took off and flew over the camp, and they named the birds after the burial dance.
As I listened to the man’s tale, the sun came up and he was well enough to walk. He took me to his tribe, and I met his brothers and sisters. There were many of his tribe named after their ancestors, Santiago, Atlacoya, Lucia and Pablo.
I helped them build a big fire for the dead Elder, and the hunters of the tribe returned with many Flamingos in cages.
The tribe, grateful for my help, taught me the ancient burial dance, and as the fire consumed the body, we danced the burial dance, and the men of the tribe screamed their sorrows into the night as they stomped their feet in agony. The women released the flamingos and as they flew away, we remembered the Elder, Santiago and Atlacoya.