THE STORY OF THE YARA

Edition and rights: Original English text from Project Gutenberg ebook #31201, marked public domain in the USA. The literary text below is reproduced without AI rewriting.

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Down in the south, where the sun shines so hotly that
everything and everybody sleeps all day, and even the
great forests seem silent, except early in the morning
and late in the evening—down in this country there
once lived a young man and a maiden. The girl had
been born in the town, and had scarcely ever left it; but
the young man was a native of another country, and
had only come to the city near the great river because he
could find no work to do where he was.

A few months after his arrival, when the days were
cooler, and the people did not sleep so much as usual, a
great feast was held a little way out of the town, and to
this feast everyone flocked from thirty miles and more.
Some walked and some rode, some came in beautiful
golden coaches; but all had on splendid dresses of red or
blue, while wreaths of flowers rested on their hair.

It was the first time that the youth had been present
on such an occasion, and he stood silently aside watching
the graceful dances and the pretty games played by the
young people. And as he watched, he noticed one girl,
dressed in white with scarlet pomegranates in her hair,
who seemed to him lovelier than all the rest.

When the feast was over, and the young man returned
home, his manner was so strange that it drew the attention
of all his friends.

Through his work next day the youth continued to
see the girl’s face, throwing the ball to her companions, or
[Pg 89]
threading her way between them as she danced. At
night sleep fled from him, and after tossing for hours on
his bed, he would get up and plunge into a deep pool that
lay a little way in the forest.

This state of things went on for some weeks, then at
last chance favoured him. One evening, as he was passing
near the house where she lived, he saw her standing with
her back to the wall, trying to beat off with her fan the
attacks of a savage dog that was leaping at her throat.
Alonzo, for such was his name, sprang forward, and with
one blow of his fist stretched the creature dead upon the
road. He then helped the frightened and half-fainting
girl into the large cool verandah where her parents were
sitting, and from that hour he was a welcome guest in
the house, and it was not long before he was the promised
husband of Julia.

Every day, when his work was done, he used to go up
to the house, half hidden among flowering plants and
brilliant creepers, where humming-birds darted from bush
to bush, and parrots of all colours, red and green and grey,
shrieked in chorus. There he would find the maiden
waiting for him, and they would spend an hour or two
under the stars, which looked so large and bright that
you felt as if you could almost touch them.

‘What did you do last night after you went home?’
suddenly asked the girl one evening.

‘Just the same as I always do,’ answered he. ‘It was
too hot to sleep, so it was no use going to bed, and I
walked straight off to the forest and bathed in one of
those deep dark pools at the edge of the river. I have
been there constantly for several months, but last night
a strange thing happened. I was taking my last plunge,
when I heard—sometimes from one side, and sometimes
from another—the sound of a voice singing more sweetly
than any nightingale, though I could not catch any words.
I left the pool, and, dressing myself as fast as I could,
I searched every bush and tree round the water, as I
[Pg 90]
fancied that perhaps it was my friend who was playing
a trick on me, but there was not a creature to be seen;
and when I reached home I found my friend fast asleep.’

As Julia listened her face grew deadly white, and her
whole body shivered as if with cold. From her childhood
she had heard stories of the terrible beings that lived in
the forests and were hidden under the banks of the rivers,
and could only be kept off by powerful charms. Could
the voice which had bewitched Alonzo have come from
one of these? Perhaps, who knows, it might be the voice
of the dreaded Yara herself, who sought young men on
the eve of their marriage as her prey.

For a moment the girl sat choked with fear, as these
thoughts rushed through her; then she said: ‘Alonzo,
will you promise me something?’

‘What is that?’ asked he.

‘It is something that has to do with our future
happiness.’

‘Oh! it is serious, then? Well, of course I promise.
Now tell me!’

‘I want you to promise,’ she answered, lowering her
voice to a whisper, ‘never to bathe in those pools again.’

‘But why not, queen of my soul; have I not gone
there always, and nothing has harmed me, flower of my
heart?’

‘No; but perhaps something will. If you will not
promise I shall go mad with fright. Promise me.’

‘Why, what is the matter? You look so pale! Tell
me why you are so frightened?’

‘Did you not hear the song?’ she asked, trembling.

‘Suppose I did, how could that hurt me? It was the
loveliest song I ever heard!’

‘Yes, and after the song will come the apparition; and
after that—after that——’

‘I don’t understand. Well—after that?’

‘After that—death.’

Alonzo stared at her. Had she really gone mad?
[Pg 91]
Such talk was very unlike Julia; but before he could
collect his senses the girl spoke again:

‘That is the reason why I implore you never to go
there again; at any rate till after we are married.’

‘And what difference will our marriage make?’

‘Oh, there will be no danger then; you can go to bathe
as often as you like!’

‘But tell me why you are so afraid?’

‘Because the voice you heard—I know you will laugh,
but it is quite true—it was the voice of the Yara.’

At these words Alonzo burst into a shout of laughter;
but it sounded so harsh and loud that Julia shrank away
shuddering. It seemed as if he could not stop himself,
and the more he laughed the paler the poor girl became,
murmuring to herself as she watched him:

‘Oh, heaven! you have seen her! you have seen her!
what shall I do?’

Faint as was her whisper, it reached the ears of Alonzo,
who, though he still could not speak for laughing, shook
his head.

‘You may not know it, but it is true. Nobody who
has not seen the Yara laughs like that.’ And Julia flung
herself on the ground weeping bitterly.

At this sight Alonzo became suddenly grave, and kneeling
by her side, gently raised her up.

‘Do not cry so, my angel,’ he said, ‘I will promise
anything you please. Only let me see you smile again.’

With a great effort Julia checked her sobs, and rose to
her feet.

‘Thank you,’ she answered. ‘My heart grows lighter
as you say that! I know you will try to keep your word
and to stay away from the forest. But—the power of the
Yara is very strong, and the sound of her voice is apt to
make men forget everything else in the world. Oh, I
have seen it, and more than one betrothed maiden lives
alone, broken-hearted. If ever you should return to the
pool where you first heard the voice, promise me that you
[Pg 92]
will at least take this with you.’ And opening a curiously
carved box, she took out a sea-shell shot with many
colours, and sang a song softly into it. ‘The moment
you hear the Yara’s voice,’ said she, ‘put this to your
[Pg 93]
ear, and you will hear my song instead. Perhaps—I do
not know for certain—but perhaps, I may be stronger
than the Yara.’

It was late that night when Alonzo returned home.
The moon was shining on the distant river, which looked
cool and inviting, and the trees of the forest seemed to
stretch out their arms and beckon him near. But the
young man steadily turned his face in the other direction,
and went home to bed.

The struggle had been hard, but Alonzo had his reward
next day in the joy and relief with which Julia greeted
him. He assured her that having overcome the temptation
once the danger was now over; but she, knowing
better than he did the magic of the Yara’s face and voice,
did not fail to make him repeat his promise when he
went away.

For three nights Alonzo kept his word, not because he
believed in the Yara, for he thought that the tales about
her were all nonsense, but because he could not bear the
tears with which he knew that Julia would greet him, if he
confessed that he had returned to the forest. But, in spite
of this, the song rang in his ears, and daily grew louder.

On the fourth night the attraction of the forest grew
so strong that neither the thought of Julia nor the promises
he had made her could hold him back. At eleven
o’clock he plunged into the cool darkness of the trees, and
took the path that led straight to the river. Yet, for the
first time, he found that Julia’s warnings, though he
had laughed at her at the moment, had remained in his
memory, and he glanced at the bushes with a certain
sense of fear which was quite new to him.

When he reached the river he paused and looked
round for a moment to make sure that the strange feeling
of some one watching him was fancy, and he was really
alone. But the moon shone brightly on every tree, and
nothing was to be seen but his own shadow; nothing was
to be heard but the sound of the rippling stream.

[Pg 94]
He threw off his clothes, and was just about to dive
in headlong, when something—he did not know what—suddenly
caused him to look round. At the same instant
the moon passed from behind a cloud, and its rays fell on
a beautiful golden-haired woman standing half hidden by
the ferns.

With one bound he caught up his mantle, and rushed
headlong down the path he had come, fearing at each
step to feel a hand laid on his shoulder. It was not till
he had left the last trees behind him, and was standing
in the open plain, that he dared to look round, and then
he thought a figure in white was still standing there
waving her arms to and fro. This was enough; he ran
along the road harder than ever, and never paused till he
was safe in his own room.

With the earliest rays of dawn he went back to the
forest to see whether he could find any traces of the Yara,
but though he searched every clump of bushes, and looked
up every tree, everything was empty, and the only voices
he heard were those of parrots, which are so ugly that they
only drive people away.

‘I think I must be mad,’ he said to himself, ‘and have
dreamt all that folly’; and going back to the city he
began his daily work. But either that was harder than
usual, or he must be ill, for he could not fix his mind
upon it, and everybody he came across during the day
inquired if anything had happened to give him that white,
frightened look.

‘I must be feverish,’ he said to himself; ‘after all, it is
rather dangerous to take a cold bath when one is feeling
so hot.’ Yet he knew, while he said it, that he was counting
the hours for night to come, that he might return to
the forest.

In the evening he went as usual to the creeper-covered
house. But he had better have stayed away, as his face
was so pale and his manner so strange, that the poor
girl saw that something terrible had occurred. Alonzo,

[Pg 97]
however, refused to answer any of her questions, and all
she could get was a promise to hear everything next day.

On pretence of a violent headache, he left Julia much
earlier than usual and hurried quickly home. Taking
down a pistol, he loaded it and put it in his belt, and a
little before midnight he stole out on the tips of his toes,
so as to disturb nobody. Once outside he hastened down
the road which led to the forest.

He did not stop till he had reached the river pool,
when, holding the pistol in his hand, he looked about
him. At every little noise—the falling of a leaf, the rustle
of an animal in the bushes, the cry of a night-bird—he
sprang up and cocked his pistol in the direction of the
sound. But though the moon still shone he saw nothing,
and by and by a kind of dreamy state seemed to steal
over him as he leant against a tree.

How long he remained in this condition he could not
have told, but suddenly he awoke with a start, on hearing
his name uttered softly.

‘Who is that?’ he cried, standing upright instantly;
but only an echo answered him. Then his eyes grew
fascinated with the dark waters of the pool close to his
feet, and he looked at it as if he could never look away.

He gazed steadily into the depths for some minutes,
when he became aware that down in the darkness was
a bright spark, which got rapidly bigger and brighter.
Again that feeling of awful fear took possession of him,
and he tried to turn his eyes from the pool. But it was
no use; something stronger than himself compelled him
to keep them there.

At last the waters parted softly, and floating on the
surface he saw the beautiful woman whom he had fled
from only a few nights before. He turned to run, but his
feet were glued to the spot.

She smiled at him and held out her arms, but as she
did so there came over him the remembrance of Julia,
as he had seen her a few hours earlier, and her warnings
[Pg 98]
and fears for the very danger in which he now found
himself.

Meanwhile the figure was always drawing nearer,
nearer; but, with a violent effort, Alonzo shook off his
stupor, and taking aim at her shoulder he pulled the trigger.
The report awoke the sleeping echoes, and was repeated
all through the forest, but the figure smiled still, and went
on advancing. Again Alonzo fired, and a second time
the bullet whistled through the air, and the figure advanced
nearer. A moment more, and she would be at
his side.

Then, his pistol being empty, he grasped the barrel
with both hands, and stood ready to use it as a club
should the Yara approach any closer. But now it
seemed her turn to feel afraid, for she paused for an
instant while he pressed forward, still holding the pistol
above his head, prepared to strike.

In his excitement he had forgotten the river, and it
was not till the cold water touched his feet that he stood
still by instinct. The Yara saw that he was wavering,
and suffering herself to sway gently backwards and
forwards on the surface of the river, she began to sing.
The song floated through the trees, now far and now
near; no one could tell whence it came, the whole air
seemed full of it. Alonzo felt his senses going and his
will failing. His arms dropped heavily to his side,
but in falling struck against the sea shell, which, as
he had promised Julia, he had always carried in his
coat.

His dimmed mind was just clear enough to remember
what she had said, and with trembling fingers, that were
almost powerless to grasp, he drew it out. As he did so
the song grew sweeter and more tender than before, but
he shut his ears to it and bent his head over the shell.
Out of its depths arose the voice of Julia singing to him as
she had sung when she gave him the shell, and though
the notes sounded faint at first, they swelled louder and
[Pg 99]
louder till the mist which had gathered about him was
blown away.

Then he raised his head, feeling that he had been
through strange places, where he could never wander any
more; and he held himself erect and strong, and looked
about him. Nothing was to be seen but the shining of
the river, and the dark shadows of the trees; nothing
was to be heard but the hum of the insects, as they
darted through the night.

[Adapted from Folklore Brésilien.]

[Pg 100]