I have to leave the beautiful flowers,
I have to go in search of the mystery site!
But for a short time,
Let’s make the beautiful songs ours.
Emeralds are: turquoise
your clay and your feathers,
Oh life giver!
Happiness and wealth to the warriors
is to die at war."
Night Eagle did not feel sad over his imminent death. Something in his guts did not accept leaving this world, without having found his own face, his true heart, his home. Etla Valley came from very far away and held onto the warrior heart.
Death became desolation, by not having regained his identity, not knowing his true history, what were his origins. In front of such truth, his present fell out of context, even his own death dislodged. Thought Night Eagle, if I do not know who I am, who dies in truth?
A courage and outrage discharge came from the warrior guts. At that instant he decided that he could not die without having regained his memory. The huge tree began to crack and the enthusiasm shouts of the hunters did not disrupt him. The tree was beginning to lean producing a roar. Night Eagle looked at the sky and saw, at that moment, a shooting star fell luminously scratching to sky sphere. At the time when the star was falling, Night Eagle stretched his arms towards the sky immensity. Tree started its noisy fall and the warrior in the darkness of the night, miraculously turned into a huge eagle, opening its wings to fly slowly in pursuit of the immeasurable.
In his majestic flight left behind the jungle and was returning to the south, bordering the west coast on a night flight.
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