and the kitchen fire, are accomplices of all the stories told about the way to live, think and feel, of those who live shaking the ground. Because the peasant is an amorous artist who through his works makes the earth trembles.
The warrior, very respectfully heard the talk with silent intervals from the men, rarely interrupted by a woman and in the full expectation of minors. Without thinking suddenly he heard the voice of the white hair old man, who told him within his head:
—To hear farmers talk is to hear the voice of earth. Farmers are the most tangible voice of earth. Our dear mother keeps in them all her secrets, her intimacies, her wisdom, her needs. Our dear mother makes all her children in her likeness, fertile or sterile, moist or dry, soft and dark or hard, pale and stony. Her sons, likewise turn out to be warm, smooth, arable where all germinate and flourish, or are mouthy, rough, tough, made from tepetate, impenetrable. Listening farmers talk is to put an ear on the ground.
Night Eagle then felt the presence of the old man in that kitchen and understood that he would accompany him until the end of the journey. The farmers laid out their petates and prepared to relax after dinner.
The next morning Night Eagle continued walking. After saying goodbye to the family, the elder woman handed him a net with food and a water gourd for the road.
It took the warrior five days to cross valleys until you reach the Etla Valley, which was in the eastern, very close to the feet of the other mountain range.
As he approached his home, the land was laboriously worked. It was clear that he was coming to a city,
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