In Santa Tecla, near Baje, there was only one village left, the last stronghold of the Indians. Evil whites were already in control everywhere. The Indians had only God and Sepe left. This village was ruled by the old leader Ibaje, from whose name the name of the now beautiful border town of Baje came. But how he fought, that old Indian! He was a friend of Saint Sepe, and that says it all!
And there, in Santa Tecla, the Europeans decided to fight the Indians. The two armies clashed in a terrible battle never seen before. On one side were European troops, well armed and trained, and also as cunning as old foxes. On the other hand, there were the Indians led by the young Guarani, who also fought related to the history of the country. with all their inherent courage. When both armies grappled, the earth groaned, as if a herd of a thousand heads had run across it. The air smelled of death.
But Sepe Thiaraju, the proud Indian leader, pursued by well-armed Spanish and Portuguese troops, could not resist and had to retreat. Bloodied, suffering from wounds, with pain in his soul, he moved away from his warriors and sat down under an old palm tree to mourn his defeat. He sobbed bitterly and thought: “This is our land, we are its owners.” Tears flowed from his eyes, previously unfamiliar with salty moisture, and fell to the ground. The ground became wet with tears, and they kept flowing and flowing. And the next day, when the sun rose and illuminated the end of the world, the Indian chief was still sitting under the palm tree, and at his feet a stream flowed, its waters sang: “This is our land, we are its masters.” When the Indians woke up, they washed their hands in the new stream, and hope was restored in their souls. It was as if the world was waking up from a terrible dream. The Indians regained their strength, their courage and thirst for battle returned to them. As if encouraging them, the fields turned green at the wrong time. The Indians rushed into battle again. But before leaving his place under the old palm tree, Sepe wanted to give a name to the new river, which was born from his deep love for his native land. And, washing his weapon in it, he said: “Sheresai... Sheresai,” which means: “River of Tears.”
And to this day, if you follow the San Sene River downstream, you will see a stream whose light waters merge with the waters of the San Sene. This will be the river of tears, born from Tiaraju’s love for the land of the Gauchos, which now belongs to the Brazilians.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru