The Encampment

In the encampment of the adventurers Gilles, a young Frenchman proceeding from obscure vilarejo of the Gasconha met. Its linguajar funny age, in the constant mixture of terms of languedoc. They turn over, they had been known, they are landed on water. With the devotion and the wonderful inconseqncia of the adolescents that already to the twenty years nobody would obtain to repeat. It was the sluggish time of the beginning of summer, when the spikes still are green in caules and the land is hot, in the feverish work to ripen them. The remaining portion of the nature seems to stop, to the wait of the fruits, that soon will come, bringing work and prosperity. But in those weeks, everything it turned to devagar, as the shovels of the mills. The boyfriends passed hours when the captain and the father of the young woman allowed speaking of its lives, it of the adventures and it of the flour bags, only thing that its life fulled; When it stopped, it counted of the wars that fight in strange lands; she showed to its wounds, exaggerating the gravity, the number of enemies, the clangor of the battles.

there, it paraded, balancing on a mysterious wire, its dreams, its hopes. It counted to it as in the Midi the flowers were different; they were thousand of roses; they confided it the sun and to the clida breeze of the Mediterranean and if they pavoneavam, magnificent in its beauty, fulling air with its perfume and the eyes with its opulentas forms. Here, in polder, the flowers were others: modest, hidden, humble, owners of an interior beauty, whom they did not show, as if they did not want to appear; thus was it, Roxanne. The two soon lost the voice, the thought; they forgot who were and where they were. Loucamente gotten passionate.


The children are not as great people. They understand everything what they say the birds, the flowers, the forest, until the fish They desamarraram when it, Anon flied, to devagar, for its nest, that, fortunately, was not far. But before, it gave two pretty returns on the heads of the children, who had understood perfectly; it was thanking very the received treatment; had been happy. But another scare waited Anon before the end of the day. In the end of the park, close to the gates, the ones guards had placed gaiolinhas, each one with one passarinho. They started to sing early soon, in days of sun, and thus they called all the others that passed for there, and these went down, complimented the prisoners, used to advantage to peck one sementinhas and to drink one aguinha and later raised flight. Anon, already remade of the scare, passed for the gates flying well high and saw the imprisoned birds in the bird cages.

Visitinha thought about making one to them, imagining as the life of always imprisoned them was sad. It was come close, to devagar well, looking at for the sides. The passarinhos prisoners were agitated. They beat with the wings in the bird cages, went up and they went down for the supports, they hung themselves in the ferrinhos and they jumped of saves who will be able! But Anon was alive, smart. It saw as soon as the cat was for close, and was well alert.

When it perceived the dark shade arriving, it jumped of side and it flied for far, with all the forces that had. It only stopped when it obtained to arrive in house, it wants to say, in nest – I know that passarinho does not have house – was tremendous of scare and gasping of the effort of the flight. But he was alive. Catina owner was very contented to see it and to know that it had started to walk for the world and had been to sleep. In the following day, Catina owner and its Cancor had called the younglings for a serious colloquy. Anon had learned many things, with its first stroll: First, that she needs to eat everything what the mother orders, to grow and to be strong. Second, that if she will not have courage to make the things, never she goes to have nothing, never goes to be nobody Third, that the more pretty they seem the things, more dangerous are and they can hurt of truth. Room, that friends very make for us world is full of perigos. For one passarinho fragile and mainly delicate, as small Anon.