War hymns were heard in the forest, and Itabaete walked with his warriors in search of a place where they could set up a large camp. The whole tribe set off; people's eyes shone with a victorious brilliance. And only one person, dejected over the years, could not go with everyone else. Crying, he remained on the top of the hill and followed with his eyes the chain of warriors that snaked along the roads. Even when the tribe disappeared into the dense forest, the old Indian still stood silent, like a statue, and memories of past battles surrounded him on all sides. Mentally, he returned to those times when his hand was the hand of the most formidable warrior in the tribe, when his arrow was the most accurate, and his eyes were the sharpest eyes that pierced the vast night. Now he was old, weak and was forced to wander aimlessly through the endless forests. To console him, he was left only with memories and the beauty of Iari - the youngest and most beautiful of his daughters, who remained deaf to the call of the many warriors in love with her and chose to stay with her old father in order to sweeten the last hours of his life with the honey of her smiles.
One day a stranger in colored clothes came to the hut of an old Guarani; his eyes made him remember the blueness of the skies over distant lands. The Guarani immediately noticed that this man came from distant lands that stretched on the other side of the Maracajou forests - forests in which in the old days he, the Guarani, had delightedly cut paths when his tribe moved to a new place. The skin that served as the door to his hut rose to admit the stranger. Iari brought the best fruits from the grove and the best honey from the little bees. And her elderly father, slightly narrowing his eyes to better see the distant times, rich in exploits, recalled incidents from his youth, and he himself was inspired by this story about dangerous hunts and victorious battles. Father and daughter did everything to please the stranger during the hours he would spend in their hut.
Night fell on the ground, and a hammock was hung for the guest, which was supposed to serve as his bed. In a dream, the guest heard the gentle voice of a girl who sang Guarani songs. And the next day, when the sun's rays penetrated through the lowest branches of the trees, father and daughter saw that the stranger was ready to set off again.
“Your hands are generous, like crystal streams of water,” he said to the old Indian. “Your heart is hospitable, like the endless plains of Charrua, where there are many roads along which it is so pleasant for a traveler to walk; your daughter is pure, like the bright springs and happy morning dawns of my land. Such great virtues deserve reward. I come from the domain of the good god Tupa. Ask me for whatever you want!
“I do not deserve you to do anything for me, sir,” answered the Guarani. “But since Tupa, in his infinite mercy, wished you to stretch out your hands over this poor hut, I would ask you to inspire me with courage for those last steps that I will take along my earthly path.” There was a time when I led countless warriors along the roads of war; Today, only my daughter is next to me - the only joy of the last days of my life. I would like another companion who would bring joy to my lips and give peace to my heart. A companion who would become my last friend, my true friend. Then Iari could follow the path of our tribe, whose young men yearn for her love, so that with her they could confidently walk the road of victory. This is what I ask, sir: give me a faithful friend, a comrade who will sweeten my bitter hours, my hours of melancholy...
Tupa's messenger smiled. In his hands, a plant with green leaves shone with a wonderful light, exuding the aroma of goodness - perhaps it was the aroma of Tupa himself.
“Grow this herb and drink the infusion of its leaves,” said the messenger of God. “Drink the infusion of its leaves, and you will receive the comrade you ask for!” This herb, which I brought by the grace of Tupa, is growing throughout the forests, bringing with it comfort not only to you, but to your entire tribe. And you, Iari, will become the patroness of the forests that will grow on your land. Warriors will taste the sweetness of your caresses after they try this drink, and the roads of war will become easier for them, and the days of rest will be more pleasant...
And, already moving away from the hut, Tupa’s messenger repeated:
- You will have a faithful comrade, the old leader of the Guarani... And you will become the patroness of your tribe, Kaa-Iari...
And from then on, Kaa-Iari became the mistress of herbs and the goddess of herb gatherers. Everyone who is faithful to her receives any help from her. And if any herbalist is not satisfied with her patronage and wants to see with his own eyes the generosity of her hands, he can conclude a sacred contract with her. He will have to go to church during Holy Week to ask for the hand of Kaa-Iari and take an oath that he will always live in the forest where the mate grass grows, worship only his goddess and never love other women... Then he will leave a note in the mate branch in which he will set a day for meeting with the beautiful patroness of the forests. On the appointed day, he will penetrate into the depths of the grove, where Kaa-Iari will test his courage, sending snakes and predators along his path. And if the herbalist shows courage and strength, overcoming all dangers, he will receive a reward from Iari.
His whole life will be filled with the love of the young goddess. His nights will be full of pleasures, and his days will be full of abundance. The forests where mate grows will shed their leaves and fill leather shepherd's bags with joy without him having to lift a finger. When the mate is weighed, Kaa-Iari, invisible to everyone except her lover, will sit on armfuls of grass, increasing the weight of the harvest. The collector's happiness will be endless!
Yes, endless... unless he betrays his oath... For if any woman manages to seduce him, she will bring the disfavor of the goddess upon him with her caresses. One fine day, either he will be found dead in the forest, and no one will be able to explain why he died, or he will run through the forests as a pathetic madman!
Such is the revenge of Kaa-Iari! She never forgives!
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru