百年孤独(英文版)-第8部分
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ng them as predictions of the material。 One day Amaranta’s basket began to move by itself and made a plete turn about the room； to the consternation of Auerliano； who hurried to stop it。 But his father did not get upset。 He put the basket in its place and tied it to the leg of a table； convinced that the long…awaited event was imminent。 It was on that occasion that Auerliano heard him say：
“If you don’t fear God； fear him through the metals。
Suddenly； almost five months after her disappearance； ？rsula came back。 She arrived exalted； rejuvenated； with new clothes in a style that was unknown in the village。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía could barely stand up under the impact。 “That was it！？he shouted。 “I knew it was going to happen。？And he really believed it； for during his prolonged imprisonment as he manipulated the material； he begged in the depth of his heart that the longed…for miracle should not be the discovery of the philosopher’s stone； or the freeing of the breath that makes metals live； or the faculty to convert the hinges and the locks of the house into gold； but what had just happened： ？rsula’s return。 But she did not share his excitement。 She gave him a conventional kiss； as if she had been away only an hour； and she told him：
“Look out the door。？
Jos？Arcadio Buendía took a long time to get out of his perplexity when he went out into the street and saw the crowd。 They were not gypsies。 They were men and women like them； with straight hair and dark skin； who spoke the same language and plained of the same pains。 They had mules loaded down with things to eat； oxcarts with furniture and domestic utensils； pure and simple earthly accessories put on sale without any fuss by peddlers of everyday reality。 They came from the other side of the swamp； only two days away； where there were towns that received mail every month in the year and where they were familiar with the implements of good living。 ？rsula had not caught up with the gypsies； but she had found the route that her husband had been unable to discover in his frustrated search for the great inventions。
Chapter 3
PILAR TERNERA’S son was brought to his grand parents？house two weeks after he was born。 ？rsula admitted him grudgingly； conquered once more by the obstinacy of her husband； who could not tolerate the idea that an offshoot of his blood should be adrift； but he imposed the condition that the child should never know his true identity。 Although he was given the name Jos？Arcadio； they ended up calling him simply Arcadio so as to avoid confusion。 At that time there was so much activity in the town and so much bustle in the house that the care of the children was relegated to a secondary level。 They were put in the care of Visitación； a Guajiro Indian woman who had arrived in town with a brother in flight from a plague of insomnia that had been scourging their tribe for several years。 They were both so docile and willing to help that ？rsula took them on to help her with her household chores。 That was how Arcadio and Amaranta came to speak the Guajiro language before Spanish； and they learned to drink lizard broth and eat spider eggs without ？rsula’s knowing it； for she was too busy with a promising business in candy animals。 Macondo had changed。 The people who had e with ？rsula spread the news of the good quality of its soil and its privileged position with respect to the swamp； so that from the narrow village of past times it changed into an active town with stores and workshops and a permanent mercial route over which the first Arabs arrived with their baggy pants and rings in their ears； sping glass beads for macaws。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía did not have a moment’s rest。 Fascinated by an immediate reality that came to be more fantastic than the vast universe of his imagination； he lost all interest in the alchemist’s laboratory； put to rest the material that had bee attenuated with months of manipulation； and went back to being the enterprising man of earlier days when he had decided upon the layout of the streets and the location of the new houses so that no one would enjoy privileges that everyone did not have。 He acquired such authority among the new arrivals that foundations were not laid or walls built without his being consulted； and it was decided that he should be the one in charge of the distribution of the land。 When the acrobat gypsies returned； with their vagabond carnival transformed now into a gigantic organization of games of luck and chance； they were received with great joy； for it was thought that Jos？Arcadio would be ing back with them。 But Jos？Arcadio did not return； nor did they e with the snake…man； who； according to what ？rsula thought； was the only one who could tell them about their son； so the gypsies were not allowed to camp in town or set foot in it in the future； for they were considered the bearers of concupiscence and perversion。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía； however； was explicit in maintaining that the old tribe of Melquíades； who had contributed so much to the growth of the village with his age…old wisdom and his fabulous inventions； would always find the gates open。 But Melquíades？tribe； according to what the wanderers said； had been wiped off the face of the earth because they had gone beyond the limits of human knowledge。
Emancipated for the moment at least from the torment of fantasy； Jos？Arcadio Buendía in a short time set up a system of order and work which allowed for only one bit of license： the freeing of the birds； which； since the time of the founding； had made time merry with their flutes； and installing in their place musical clocks in every house。 They were wondrous clocks made of carved wood； which the Arabs had traded for macaws and which Jos？Arcadio Buendía had synchronized with such precision that every half hour the town grew merry with the progressive chords of the same song until it reached the climax of a noontime that was as exact and unanimous as a plete waltz。 It was also Jos？Arcadio Buendía who decided during those years that they should plant almond trees instead of acacias on the streets； and who discovered； without ever revealing it； a way to make them live forever。 Many years later； when Macondo was a field of wooden houses with zinc roofs； the broken and dusty almond trees still stood on the oldest streets； although no one knew who had planted them。 While his father was putting the town in order and his mother was increasing their wealth with her marvelous business of candied little roosters and fish； which left the house twice a day strung along sticks of balsa wood； Aureliano spent interminable hours in the abandoned laboratory； learning the art of silverwork by his own experimentation。 He had shot up so fast that in a short time the clothing left behind by his brother no longer fit him and he began to wear his father’s； but Visitación had to sew pleats in the shirt and darts in the pants； because Aureliano had not sequined the corpulence of the others。 Adolescence had taken away the softness of his voice and had made him silent and definitely solitary； but； on the other hand； it had restored the intense expression that he had had in his eyes when he was born。 He concentrated so much on his experiments in silverwork that he scarcely left the laboratory to eat。 Worried ever his inner withdrawal； Jos？Arcadio Buendía gave him the keys to the house and a little money； thinking that perhaps he needed a woman。 But Aureliano spent the money on muriatic acid to prepare some aqua regia and he beautified the keys by plating them with gold。 His excesses were hardly parable to those of Arcadio and Amaranta； who had already begun to get their second teeth and still went about all day clutching at the Indians？cloaks； stubborn in their decision not to speak Spanish but the Guajiro language。 “You shouldn’t plain。？？rsula told her husband。 “Children inherit their parents？madness。？And as she was lamenting her misfortune； convinced that the wild behavior of her children was something as fearful as a pig’s tail； Aureliano gave her a look that wrapped her in an atmosphere of uncertainty。
“Somebody is ing；？he told her。
？rsula； as she did whenever he made a prediction； tried to break it down with her housewifely logic。 It was normal for someone to be ing。 Dozens of strangers came through Macondo every day without arousing suspicion or secret ideas。 Nevertheless； beyond all logic； Aureliano was sure of his prediction。
“I don’t know who it will be；？he insisted； “but whoever it is is already on the way。？
That Sunday； in fact； Rebeca arrived。 She was only eleven years old。 She had made the difficult trip from Manaure with some hide dealers who had taken on the task of delivering her along with a letter to Jos？Arcadio Buendía； but they could not explain precisely who the person was who had asked the favor。 Her entire baggage consisted of a small trunk； a little rocking chair with small hand…painted flowers； and a canvas sack which kept making a cloc…cloc…cloc sound； where she carried her parents？bones。 The letter addressed to Jos？Arcadio Buendía was written is very warm terms by someone who still loved him very much in spite of time and distance； and who felt obliged by a basic humanitarian feeling to do the charitable thing and send him that poor unsheltered orphan； who was a second cousin of ？rsula’s and consequently also a relative of Jos？Arcadio Buendía； although farther removed； because she was the daughter of that unforgettable friend Nicanor Ulloa and his very worthy wife Rebeca Montiel； may God keep them in His holy kingdom； whose remains the girl was carrying so that they might be given Christian burial。 The names mentioned； as well as the signature on the letter； were perfectly legible； but neither Jos？Arcadio； Buendía nor ？rsula remembered having any relatives with those names； nor did they know anyone by the name of the sender of the letter； much less the remote village of Manaure。 It was impossible to obtain any further information from the girl。 From the moment she arrived she had been sitting in the rocker； sucking her finger and observing everyone with her large； startled eyes without giving any sign of understanding what they were asking her。 She wore a diagonally stri
