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Updated: May 20, 2025
"In the very beginning of things, many, many changes of the season ago, the gura and the chapla were just alike," Oomah said impressively, holding up one hand for further emphasis. "They were married one day just as the rains were about to stop for good and the floods were going back into the rivers where they belonged. But, they were not happy. Before long they quarrelled.
The gura," holding up the trumpeter, which was like a turkey without a tail, for such it was, "was forever cackling and scolding and the chapla" pointing to the curassow, which resembled a turkey with a long tail, "resented this and answered in loud squawks. Then they began to fight. The chapla pushed the gura into the fire over which she was cooking and burned off her tail.
They raced toward the oncoming figure still a few hundred yards away on the edge of the sandbank. Each wanted to be the first to reach his side and to hear from his lips the story of the afternoon's hunt. "Oh, look," the leader said in wide-eyed wonder when they all came to a stop in front of the mighty hunter. "A gura and a chapla. Tell us, Oomah, how did you get them?"
You will bear the marks of your disgrace with you forever. And that is why the gura has a short tail and the feathers on the head of the chapla are singed even to this day." A chorus of "Oh's" escaped the cluster of eager listeners. "Tell us another story." "What do you want me to tell about?" Oomah asked indulgently. "Tell us about the rivers."
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