El hijo horacio quiroga free#

The father takes a quick look at his wrist: 12 o'clock.

A profound buzz that fills the entire being and infuses the environment as far as the eye can see concentrates all tropical life on this hour. Wherever it wants to look - the rocks, the earth, the trees, - the air, pulsing as if in an oven, vibrates with heat. The sun, already very high, continues ascending. Without paying more attention to this insignificant event, the man abstracts himself anew into his chore. ' muses the father at recognizing the detonation. But today, with the shining and vivid summer day, the father, whose love for his son knows no bounds, feels happy, tranquil, and sure of the future.Īt that instant, not very far away, sounds a gunshot. He has seen him one time, rolling, covered in blood, when his son was struck by a bullet in the workshop because he smoothed the buckle of his hunting belt. The image of his own son has not escaped this torment. He has seen, concrete in his sickness' illusions, memories of a happiness that should not spring anymore from the nothingness in which it has isolated itself.

And to succeed, he had to resist not only his heart, but also his mental torments because this father, of weak stomach and weak eyes, suffers, starting from some time ago, hallucinations. In this way, the father has educated his son. It is so easy for a small child to miscalculate, set a foot into the emptiness, and result in the loss of a son!ĭanger is always present for a man no matter his age but the threat diminishes if, from early on, he is accustomed to his own strengths. This father had to fight strongly against what he considered his egoism.

El hijo horacio quiroga free#

It isn't easy, however, for a widowed father, without other faith nor hope invested in the life of his son, to educate him like he has done, free in will, sure of the small feet and hands he has had since four years of age, conscious of the immensity of certain dangers and the weakness of his own strengths. His son, at that age, possesses one now - and the father smiles. At thirteen years he would have given his life to possess a shotgun.

They sometimes hunt a raven, a quetzal, even, and return triumphant, Juan to his ranch with the nine millimeter rifle that he had given him, and his son to the plateau with the great Saint-Etienne shotgun, of caliber 16, quadruple lock and white gunpowder. After crossing the jungle's island, his son will go around the cactus boundary and to the valley in search of doves, toucans, or perhaps a pair of herons, like the ones his friend Juan had discovered some days ago.Īlone now, the father smiles at the memory of the hunting passion of the two children. To hunt in the jungle - to hunt furred game - requires more patience than what the son has. It isn't necessary for the father to raise his eyes from his work to follow the path of his son with his mind: he has crossed the red trail and walks directly to the jungle across the clearing in the forest. And it would seem like he is younger, judging by the purity of his blue eyes, still fresh with childlike surprise. Even though he is very tall for his age, he is only thirteen years old. He knows that his son, educated from his tender infancy in the habit and precaution of danger, can manage a cannon and hunt anything it doesn't matter what it is. His father follows him with his eyes for a while and then returns to his task of the day, happy with the happiness of his little one. He balances the shotgun on his hand, smiles at his father, kisses him on the head and leaves. 'Return at lunchtime,' says the father, still observing. 'Yes, father,' the child responds, while reaching for his shotgun and slipping his cartridges into the pocket of his shirt, which he closes carefully. 'Be careful, chiquito,' he says to his son, abbreviating in this sentence all his observations, which his son understands perfectly. Like the sun, the heat, and the calm of the environment, the father also opens his heart to the wilderness. The wilderness, fully open, feels satisfied with itself. It is a powerful summer day in Misiones with all the sun, heat, and calm the season can offer.