Horacio Quiroga La gama ciega -- [The Blind Doe Edición bilingüe, español- inglés, de Miguel Garci-Gomez Dept. Romance Studies of Duke University --
Había una vez un venado -una gama- que tuvo dos hijos mellizos, cosa rara entre los venados. Un gato montés se comió a uno de ellos, y quedó solo la hembra. Las otras gamas, que la querían mucho, le hacían siempre cosquillas en los costados. Su madre le hacía repetir todas las mañanas, al rayar el día, la oración de los venados. Y dice así:	Once upon a time there was a deer—a doe—who gave birth to two little deers; and, as is very rare with such animals, the little deers were twins. However, a wildcat ate one of them; and the second, a female, had to live her childhood without a playmate. She was such a beautiful little creature, nevertheless, that all the mother deers in the forest wished she belonged to them; and to show their affection they were always nipping gently at her ribs with their lips. Every morning when the little deer got up out of bed, her mother would make her say the catechism which all deers learn when they are babies:
I Hay que oler bien primero las hojas antes de comerlas, porque algunas son venenosas.	I. I must smell of each green leaf before I eat it; because some green leaves are poisonous.
II Hay que mirar bien el río y quedarse quieto antes de bajar a beber, para estar seguro de que no hay yacarés.	II. I must stop and look carefully up and down the brook before I lower my head to drink; for otherwise an alligator may eat me.
III Cada media hora hay que levantar bien alta la cabeza y oler el viento, para sentir el olor del tigre.	III. I must lift my head every half hour and sniff carefully in all directions; otherwise a panther may steal up and catch me.
IV Cuando se come pasto del suelo, hay que mirar siempre antes los yuyos para ver si hay víboras.	IV. I must look ahead of me when I am grazing in a meadow; otherwise a snake may bite me.
Este es el padrenuestro de los venados chicos. Cuando la gamita lo hubo aprendido bien, su madre la dejó andar sola.	All good fawns learn this catechism by heart; and when this little deer could say it all by herself, her mother began to let her go away from home alone.
Una tarde, sin embargo, mientras la gamita recorría el monte comiendo las hojitas tiernas, vio de pronto ante ella, en el hueco de un árbol que estaba podrido, muchas bolitas juntas que colgaban. Tenían un color oscuro, como el de las pizarras.	One afternoon in summer, when the fawn was wandering over the mountain side looking for the tenderest tufts of grass, she saw a tree with a hollow trunk in front of her. Inside it a number of small slate-colored bags were hanging.
¿Qué sería? Ella tenía también un poco de miedo pero como era muy traviesa, dio un cabezazo a aquellas cosas, y disparó.	“What in the world is that?” said the little deer to herself. She had never seen anything of just that kind! Now deers, like people, are inclined to be a bit disrespectful towards things they don’t understand. Those puffy slate-colored bags seemed to her about the most ridiculous things there was on earth! So she butted them with all her might.
Vio entonces que las bolitas se habían rajado, y que caían gotas. Habían salido también muchas mosquitas rubias de cintura muy fina, que caminaban apresuradas por encima.	She now saw that she had made a great dent in the bags, which began to drip with drops of shining fluid. At the same time a swarm of reddish flies, with narrow waists, came out, buzzing around and walking about, over their broken nest.
La gama se acercó, y las mosquitas no la picaron. Despacito, entonces, muy despacito, probó una gota con la punta de la lengua, y se relamió con gran placer: aquellas gotas eran miel, y miel riquísima, porque las bolas de color pizarra eran una colmena de abejitas que no picaban porque no tenían aguijón. Hay abejas así.	The little deer edged nearer. Curiously, those red flies did not seem to mind at all! And what about that juicy-looking stuff? Carefully, gently, the fawn stretched out her head till she was able to touch one of the drops of fluid with the tip of her tongue. What a surprise, what a wonderful surprise, for such a little, and such an inexperienced deer! She smacked her lips and licked her nose with her tongue, hurrying to lap up all the drops she could find. For they were honey, honey of the sweetest kind. And the red flies were bees! They did not sting because they had no stingers! There are bees like that, you know, in South America.
En dos minutos la gamita se tomó toda la miel, y loca de contenta fue a contarle a su mamá. Pero la mamá la reprendió seriamente.	Not content with the few drops that were slowly oozing out of the cracks in the bags, the little deer now broke all the nests down and ate every bit of the honey in them; then, leaping and jumping with pride and delight, she hurried home to tell her mother all about it. But the mother deer frowned severely:
-Ten mucho cuidado, mi hija -le dijo- con los nidos de abejas. La miel es una cosa muy rica, pero es muy peligroso ir a sacarla. Nunca te metas con los nidos que veas.	“Look out for bees’ nests, my child!” she exclaimed earnestly. “Honey is very good to eat; but it is dangerous to get at it. Keep away from all the nests you see!”
La gamita gritó contenta:	“But bees don’t sting, mamma!” the little deer objected gleefully.
-¡Pero no pican, mamá! Los tábanos y las uras sí pican; las abejas no.	“Hornets sting, and wasps sting; but bees, no!”
-Estás equivocada, mi hija -continuó la madre-. Hoy has tenido suerte, nada más. Hay abejas y avispas muy malas. Cuidado, mi hija; porque me vas a dar un gran disgusto.	“That isn’t so, my dear!” the mother answered. “You had good luck, that’s all. Bees are quite as bad as wasps. Now mind me, child, or some day you’ll be sorry.”
-¡Sí, mamá! !Sí, mamá! -respondió la gamita. Pero lo primero que hizo a la mañana siguiente fue seguir los senderos que habían abierto los hombres en el monte, para ver con más facilidad los nidos de abejas.	“All right, mamma, I’ll be careful,” said the little deer. But the first thing she did the very next morning was to take one of the paths that people had made over the mountains. She had figured out that, running along in the open, she could cover more ground and see the bees’ nests better!
Hasta que al fin halló uno. Esta vez el nido tenía abejas oscuras, con una fajita amarilla en la cintura, que caminaban por encima del nido. El nido también era distinto; pero la gamita pensó que, puesto que estas abejas eran más grandes, la miel debía ser más rica.	And at last the search of the little deer was successful. She came upon a nest of bees—as she thought—black ones this time, with yellow sashes about their belts; and many of them were walking over the outside of the nest. The nest, also, was of a different color, and much larger than the bags the little deer had found the day before. But such things made no difference to her. “If the nest is larger,” she concluded simply, “the honey is probably sweeter and there’s more of it!”
Se acordó asimismo de la recomendación de su mamá; mas creyó que su mamá exageraba, como exageran siempre las madres de las gamitas. Entonces le dio un gran cabezazo al nido.	But then she suddenly remembered all that her mother had said. “Oh, mother is too afraid! All mothers are too afraid!” And she finished by giving a lusty butt at the nest.
¡Ojalá nunca lo hubiera hecho! Salieron enseguida cientos de avispas, miles de avispas que la picaron en todo el cuerpo, le llenaron todo el cuerpo de picaduras, en la cabeza, en la barriga, en la cola; y lo que es mucho peor, en los mismos ojos. La picaron más de diez en los ojos.	In a second or two she had bitterly repented of her folly. The “bees” were ordinary bees and there were thousands of them. They rushed forth from the nest in a great swarm, settled all over the head, neck, and shoulders of the little deer, and even under her belly and on her tail. And they stung her all over, but worst of all about the eyes. There were more than ten stings to each eye!
La gamita, loca de dolor, corrió y corrió gritando, hasta que de repente tuvo que pararse porque no veía más; estaba ciega, ciega del todo. Los ojos se le habían hinchado enormemente, y no veía más. Se quedó quieta entonces, temblando de dolor y de miedo, y sólo podía llorar desesperadamente.	The little deer, wild with pain and fright, began to run screaming away. She ran and ran. But finally she had to stop, because she could no longer see where she was going. Her eyes were all swollen; so swollen she could not open them. Trembling with fear and smarting with pain, she stopped where she was and began to cry piteously:
-¡Mamá!… ¡Mamá!…	“Mamma!... Mamma!”
Su madre, que había salido a buscarla, porque tardaba mucho, la halló al fin, y se desesperó también con su gamita que estaba ciega. La llevó paso a paso hasta su cubil, con la cabeza de su hija recostada en su pescuezo, y los bichos del monte que encontraban en el camino se acercaban todos a mirar los ojos de la infeliz gamita.	The mother deer was much worried when the afternoon wore on and her child did not come home; and at last she started out to look for her, following by smell, as deers can, the tracks of her little one over the hillsides. What was her despair when, finally, she heard the disobedient fawn weeping in the distance; and how much blacker her despair became when she found that the child was blind!
La madre no sabía qué hacer. ¿Qué remedios podía hacerle ella? Ella sabía bien que en el pueblo que estaba del otro lado del monte vivía un hombre que tenía remedios. El hombre era cazador, y cazaba también venados, pero era un hombre bueno.	Slowly the two deers started home again, the fawn’s nose resting on her mother’s hip. And along the road all the old bucks and does came up to examine the little one’s eyes and give their opinions as to a cure. The mother deer did not know what to do. She had no plasters nor poultices to soothe the pain in her child’s eyes. She learned ultimately that across the mountains lived a man who was skillful with remedies. This man was a hunter, and traded in venison. But, from all reports, she concluded that he was quite a kind-hearted person.
La madre tenía miedo, sin embargo, de llevar a su hija a un hombre que cazaba gamas. Como estaba desesperada se decidió a hacerlo. Pero antes quiso ir a pedir una carta de recomendación al OSO HORMIGUERO, que era un gran amigo del hombre.	Though the doe shivered at the thought of visiting a man who made his living on the slaughter of deer, she was willing to risk anything for her offspring. However, she had never met the man personally, and she thought it best to ask for a letter of introduction from the Anteater, who was supposed to be on very good terms with all the human kind.
Salió, pues, después de dejar a la gamita bien oculta, y atravesó corriendo el monte, donde el tigre casi la alcanza. Cuando llegó a la guarida de su amigo, no podía dar un paso más de cansancio.	It was night; and the panthers and wildcats were rampant through all the forest; but the mother deer did not wait an instant. She covered her little one carefully with branches so that no one could find her, and then made off toward the Anteater’s house. She went so fast and so far that she was faint with fatigue when she arrived there; and once, on the road, she escaped only by merest chance from the fangs of a mountain lion.
Este amigo era, como se ha dicho, un oso hormiguero; pero era de una especie pequeña, cuyos individuos tienen un color amarillo, y por encima del color amarillo una especie de camiseta negra sujeta por dos cintas que pasan por encima de los hombros. Tienen también la cola prensil, porque siempre viven en los árboles, y se cuelgan de la cola.	The Anteater was one of the smaller members of his tribe—a yellow little fellow with a black cape thrown over his shoulders and reaching down to the waist, where it was tied under his belly with black strings.
¿De dónde provenía la amistad estrecha entre el oso hormiguero y el cazador? Nadie lo sabía en el monte; pero alguna vez ha de llegar el motivo a nuestros oídos.	Just how or why the Anteater became so friendly with the hunter, no one in the forest knew; but some day the truth will be known, doubtless.
La pobre madre, pues, llegó hasta el cubil del oso hormiguero.	At any rate, the poor doe arrived at the house where the Anteater lived.
-¡Tan! ¡tan! ¡tan! -llamó jadeante.	“Tan! Tan! Tan!” she knocked, panting.
-¿Quién es? -respondió el oso hormiguero.	“Who’s that?” answered the Anteater sleepily.
-¡Soy yo, la gama!	“It’s me!” said the doe; though she corrected herself almost immediately, and said: “It is I—a deer, the mother of the twins!”
-¡Ah, bueno! ¿Qué quiere la gama?	“I see,” said the Anteater. “So it’s you! Well, what do you want?”
-Vengo a pedirle una tarjeta de recomendación para el cazador. La gamita, mi hija, está ciega.	“I want you to introduce me to the hunter. The fawn, my daughter, is blind!”
-¿Ah, la gamita? -le respondió el oso hormiguero-. Es una buena persona. Si es por ella, sí le doy lo que quiere. Pero no necesita nada escrito… Muéstrele esto, y la atenderá.	“You don’t say so? That little fawn that everybody makes so much of? She’s a dear little thing! I don’t have to be asked twice to do a favor when that child is concerned! I’ll introduce you gladly. But you won’t need a letter. Just show the man this, and he’ll do all you ask.”
Y con el extremo de la cola, el oso hormiguero le extendió a la gama una cabeza seca de víbora, completamente seca, que tenía aún los colmillos venenosos.	The Anteater rummaged around in the leaves for a while and at last stretched his tail out. On the tip of it was the head of a snake, completely dried, and with the poison fangs still in it.
-Muéstrele esto -dijo aún el comedor de hormigas-. No se precisa más.	[…]
-¡Gracias, oso hormiguero! -respondió contenta la gama-. Usted también es una buena persona.	“Thanks ever so much,” exclaimed the doe. “But that man is a venison hunter! Do you think this is all I need?” “Quite!” the Anteater averred.
Y salió corriendo, porque era muy tarde y pronto iba a amanecer.	“You are a very kind-hearted Anteater,” the doe replied, her eyes filling with tears. But she did not prolong the conversation. It was getting to be very late, and she had to be at the hunter’s lodge by daybreak.
Al pasar por su cubil recogió a su hija, que se quejaba siempre, y juntas llegaron por fin al pueblo, donde tuvieron que caminar muy despacito y arrimarse a las paredes, para que los perros no las sintieran. Ya estaban ante la puerta del cazador.	She hurried back to her house and got the fawn, who still lay there weeping in her bed. Together they made their way toward the village where the hunter lived. They stole along very softly, keeping close to the walls of the houses, so that the dogs would not see nor hear them. At the door of the hunter’s cottage the mother knocked loudly:
-¡Tan! ¡tan! ¡tan! -golpearon.	“Tan! Tan! Tan!” And the little deer knocked as loudly as she could.
-¿Que hay? -respondió una voz de hombre, desde adentro.	“Ta! Ta! Ta!” “Who’s there?” a voice called from within.
-¡Somos las gamas!… ¡TENEMOS LA CABEZA DE VÍBORA!	“It’s us,” said the fawn.
La madre se apuró a decir esto, para que el hombre supiera bien que ellas eran amigas del oso hormiguero.	“It’s we,” corrected the mother. “We are friends of the Anteater, and we have the snake’s head!”
-¡Ah, ah! -dijo el hombre, abriendo la puerta-. ¿Que pasa?	“I see,” said the hunter opening the door. “What can I do for you?”
-Venimos para que cure a mi hija, la gamita, que está ciega.	“My daughter, this little fawn here, is blind. Can you help her?”
Y contó al cazador toda la historia de las abejas.	And the mother deer told the whole story about her child and the bees.
-¡Hum!… Vamos a ver qué tiene esta señorita -dijo el cazador. Y volviendo a entrar en la casa, salió de nuevo con una silla alta, e hizo sentar en ella a la gamita para poderle ver bien los ojos sin agacharse mucho. Le examinó así los ojos, bien de cerca con un vidrio redondo muy grande, mientras la mamá alumbraba con el farol de viento colgado de su cuello.	“Hum!” said the man. “Just let me see what ails this nice young lady!” Reentering the cottage, the hunter soon came back with a rather high stool, on which he set the fawn in such a manner that he could examine her eyes without bending over. Then he took out a big lens and began to look at the stings, while the mother deer stood by, holding a lantern around her neck so that the “doctor” could see better. For the sun had not yet risen.
-Esto no es gran cosa -dijo por fin el cazador, ayudando a bajar a la gamita-. Pero hay que tener mucha paciencia. Póngale esta pomada en los ojos todas las noches, y téngale veinte días en la oscuridad. Después póngale estos lentes amarillos, y se curará.	“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” the hunter said to the fond parent, helping her little one out of the chair. “It’s only a matter of time and care. Wrap her head up, and keep a bandage with this ointment across her eyes. Then keep her in the dark for twenty days. After that, have her wear these yellow glasses for a week or two; and by that time she will be all right.”
-¡Muchas gracias, cazador! -respondió la madre, muy contenta y agradecida-. ¿Cuánto le debo?	“Thanks, many, many thanks,” said the mother deer warmly and gratefully. “And now, sir, how much do I owe you?”
-No es nada -respondió sonriendo el cazador-. Pero tenga mucho cuidado con los perros, porque en la otra cuadra vive precisamente un hombre que tiene perros para seguir el rastro de los venados.	“Nothing at all, nothing at all, madam,” the hunter replied with a smile. “But one thing more: look out for the dogs in the next house. A man lives there who keeps hounds especially for chasing deer.”
Las gamas tuvieron gran miedo; apenas pisaban, y se detenían a cada momento. Y con todo, los perros las olfatearon y las corrieron media legua dentro del monte. Corrían por una picada muy ancha, y delante la gamita iba balando.	At this news the mother deer and her child were so scared they hardly dared breathe; and as they went away they walked on tiptoe, and stopped every few feet. Even at that the dogs heard them and gave chase for nearly a mile into the forest. But the mother deer found a narrow path, opening into the bush where the blind fawn could run quite safely; and they made good their escape.
Tal como lo dijo el cazador se efectuó la curación. Pero solo la gama supo cuánto le costó tener encerrada a la gamita en el hueco de un gran árbol, durante veinte días interminables. Adentro no se veía nada. Por fin una mañana la madre apartó con la cabeza el gran montón de ramas que había arrimado al hueco del árbol para que no entrara luz, y la gamita, con sus lentes amarillos, salió corriendo y gritando:	The little deer got well, just as the hunter had said she would; though the care and trouble it cost the mother to keep her fawn shut up for twenty long days inside a hollow tree, she only knew. Inside there you could not have seen your hand before your face! But at last, one morning, the mother deer brushed aside the branches she had woven across the hole in the tree so tightly as to keep out all light; and the fawn, now with the yellow glasses on her nose, came out into the broad day.
-¡Veo, mamá! ¡Ya veo todo!	“Oh, I can see now, mamma, I can see all right!”
Y la gama, recostando la cabeza en una rama, lloraba también de alegría, al ver curada a su gamita.	And the mother deer, to tell the truth, had to go and hide her head in a clump of bushes to conceal the tears of joy that came to her eyes when she saw her little one cured at last. In two weeks, the glasses were laid aside.
Y se curó del todo. Pero aunque curada, y sana y contenta, la gamita tenía un secreto que la entristecía. Y el secreto era este: ella quería a toda costa pagarle al hombre que tan bueno había sido con ella y no sabía cómo.	As time wore on, the fawn, though happy to be quite herself again, began to grow sad. She was anxious to repay the hunter for his kindness to her; and she could think of no possible way of doing it.
Hasta que un día creyó haber encontrado el medio. Se puso a recorrer la orilla de las lagunas y bañados, buscando plumas de garza para llevarle al cazador. El cazador, por su parte, se acordaba a veces de aquella gamita ciega que él había curado.	One day, however, an idea occurred to her. As she was trotting along the shore of a pond she came upon a feather which a blue heron had let fall there. “I wonder if that good man would like it?” she thought. And she picked it up.
Y una noche de lluvia estaba el hombre leyendo en su cuarto, muy contento porque acababan de componer el techo de paja, que ahora no se llovía más; estaba leyendo cuando oyó que llamaban. Abrió la puerta, y vio a la gamita que le traía un atadito, un plumerito todo mojado de plumas de garza.	Then, one night when it was raining hard and the dogs would probably be under cover, she started out for the hunter’s cottage. The man was reading in his bedroom, feeling quite cozy besides, for he had just completed a thatched roof for his cabin when the rain began. Now he was quite safe and dry out of reach of the storm. “Tan! Tan! Tan!” When he opened the door, the little deer, whom he had treated and of whom he had often thought since then, was standing there in the rain, with the heron’s plume, all wet and drooping, in her mouth. “Here is something I have brought for you,” the fawn explained.
El cazador se puso a reír, y la gamita, avergonzada porque creía que el cazador se reía de su pobre regalo, se fue muy triste. Buscó entonces plumas muy grandes, bien secas y limpias, y una semana después volvió con ellas; y esta vez el hombre, que se había reído la vez anterior de cariño, no se rió esta vez porque la gamita no comprendía la risa. Pero en cambio le regaló un tubo de tacuara lleno de miel, que la gamita tomó loca de contento.	But the hunter began to laugh. The little deer went off home in great shame and sorrow. She thought the man had laughed in ridicule of her poor gift! So thereafter she went looking for a better, bigger feather to give her benefactor; and this time she found some plumes that were truly splendid ones; and she was careful to keep them clean and dry. Again she went back, one night, to the hunter’s cabin; and this time he did not laugh. He was a courteous, polite man; and he understood that, the other time, he had hurt his little friend’s feelings by laughing at her. Instead, he now invited her indoors, drew the high chair up to the table and gave her a saucerful of honey. Gobble, gobble! The little deer lapped the sweet up in mad delight.
Desde entonces la gamita y el cazador fueron grandes amigos. Ella se empeñaba siempre en llevarle plumas de garza que valen mucho dinero, y se quedaba horas charlando con el hombre. Él ponía siempre en la mesa un jarro enlozado lleno de miel, y, arrimaba la sillita alta para su amiga. A veces le daba también cigarros que las gamas comen con gran gusto, y no les hacen mal. Pasaban así el tiempo, mirando la llama, porque el hombre tenía una estufa a leña mientras afuera el viento y la lluvia sacudía el alero de paja del rancho.	From that time on, the two became great friends. The fawn spent a great deal of her time collecting heron plumes, which the man sold for a large sum of money. And every time she came in with a feather, the hunter gave her a jar of honey; and occasionally he offered her a cigar, which the little deer ate, but, of course, did not smoke. Smoking is bad even for deers.
Por temor a los perros, la gamita no iba sino en las noches de tormenta. Y cuando caía la tarde y empezaba a llover, el cazador colocaba en la mesa el jarrito de miel y la servilleta, mientras tomaba café y leía, esperando en la puerta el ¡tan-tan! bien conocido de su amiga la gamita.	Whole nights the two friends thus spent together, talking in front of the open fire, while the wind was howling outside; for the deer made her visits only in stormy weather when dogs would be sure not to be about. In a short time whenever the skies were dark and gave promise of a bad night, the hunter began to expect these visits. He would light a lamp, set a jar of honey on the table, take out a book and begin to read, waiting for the “Tan! Tan! Tan!” of the little deer, who remained his loyal friend all her life.
FIN	The End