ireworks and a brass band that went on for three days。 They would have been happy from then on if ？rsula’s mother had not terrified her with all manner of sinister predictions about their offspring； even to the extreme of advising her to refuse to consummate the marriage。 Fearing that her stout and willful husband would rape her while she slept； ？rsula； before going to bed； would put on a rudimentary kind of drawers that her mother had made out of sailcloth and had reinforced with a system of crisscrossed leather straps and that was closed in the front by a thick iron buckle。 That was how they lived for several months。 During the day he would take care of his fighting cocks and she would do frame embroidery with her mother。 At night they would wrestle for several hours in an anguished violence that seemed to be a substitute for the act of love； until popular intuition got a whiff of something irregular and the rumor spread that ？rsula was still a virgin a year after her marriage because her husband was impotent。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía was the last one to hear the rumor。
“Look at what people are going around saying； ？rsula；？he told his wife very calmly。
“Let them talk；？she said。 “We know that it’s not true。？
So the situation went on the same way for another six months until that tragic Sunday when Jos？Arcadio Buendía won a cockfight from Prudencio Aguilar。 Furious； aroused by the blood of his bird； the loser backed away from Jos？Arcadio Buendía so that everyone in the cockpit could hear what he was going to tell him。
“Congratulations！？he shouted。 “Maybe that rooster of yours can do your wife a favor。？
Jos？Arcadio Buendía serenely picked up his rooster。 “I’ll be right back；？he told everyone。 And then to Prudencio Aguilar：
“You go home and get a weapon； because I’m going to kill you。？
Ten minutes later he returned with the notched spear that had belonged to his grandfather。 At the door to the cockpit； where half the town had gathered； Prudencio Aguilar was waiting for him。 There was no time to defend himself。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía’s spear； thrown with the strength of a bull and with the same good aim with which the first Aureliano Buendía had exterminated the jaguars in the region； pierced his throat。 That night； as they held a wake over the corpse in the cockpit； Jos？Arcadio Buendía went into the bedroom as his wife was putting on her chastity pants。 Pointing the spear at her he ordered： “Take them off。？？rsula had no doubt about her husband’s decision。 “You’ll be responsible for what happens；？she murmured。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía stuck the spear into the dirt floor。
“If you bear iguanas； we’ll raise iguanas；？he said。 “But there’ll be no more killings in this town because of you。？
It was a fine June night； cool and with a moon； and they were awake and frolicking in bed until dawn； indifferent to the breeze that passed through the bedroom； loaded with the weeping of Prudencio Aguilar’s kin。
The matter was put down as a duel of honor； but both of them were left with a twinge in their conscience。 One night； when she could not sleep； ？rsula went out into the courtyard to get some water and she saw Prudencio Aguilar by the water jar。 He was livid； a sad expression on his face； trying to cover the hole in his throat with a plug made of esparto grass。 It did not bring on fear in her； but pity。 She went back to the room and told her husband what she had seen； but he did not think much of it。 “This just means that we can’t stand the weight of our conscience。？Two nights later ？rsula saw Prudencio Aguilar again； in the bathroom； using the esparto plug to wash the clotted blood from his throat。 On another night she saw him strolling in the rain。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía； annoyed by his wife’s hallucinations； went out into the courtyard armed with the spear。 There was the dead man with his sad expression。
“You go to hell；？Jos？Arcadio Buendía shouted at him。 “Just as many times as you e back； I’ll kill you again。？
Prudencio Aguilar did not go away； nor did Jos？Arcadio Buendía dare throw the spear。 He never slept well after that。 He was tormented by the immense desolation with which the dead man had looked at him through the rain； his deep nostalgia as he yearned for living people； the anxiety with which he searched through the house looking for some water with which to soak his esparto plug。 “He must be suffering a great deal；？he said to ？rsula。 “You can see that he’s so very lonely。？She was so moved that the next time she saw the dead man uncovering the pots on the stove she understood what he was looking for； and from then on she placed water jugs all about the house。 One night when he found him washing his wound in his own room； Jos？Anedio Buendía could no longer resist。
“It’s all right； Prudencio；？he told him。 “We’re going to leave this town； just as far away as we can go； and we’ll never e back。 Go in peace now。？
That was how they undertook the crossing of the mountains。 Several friends of Jos？Arcadio Buendía； young men like him； excited； by the adventure； dismantled their houses and packed up； along with their wives and children； to head toward the land that no one had promised them。 Before he left； Jos？Arcadio Buendía buried the spear in the courtyard and； one after the other； he cut the throats of his magnificent fighting cocks； trusting that in that way he could give some measure of peace to Prudencio Aguilar。 All that ？rsula took along were a trunk with her bridal clothes； a few household utensils； and the small chest with the gold pieces that she had inherited from her father。 They did not lay out any definite itinerary。 They simply tried to go in a direction opposite to the road to Riohacha so that they would not leave any trace or meet any people they knew。 It was an absurd journey。 After fourteen months； her stomach corrupted by monkey meat and snake stew； ？rsula gave birth to a son who had all of his features human。 She had traveled half of the trip in a hammock that two men carried on their shoulders； because swelling had disfigured her legs and her varicose veins had puffed up like bubbles。 Although it was pitiful to see them with their sunken stomachs and languid eyes； the children survived the journey better than their parents； and most of the time it was fun for them。 One morning； after almost two years of crossing； they became the first mortals to see the western slopes of the mountain range。 From the cloudy summit they saw the immense aquatic expanse of the great swamp as it spread out toward the other side of the world。 But they never found the sea。 One night； after several months of lost wandering through the swamps； far away now from the last Indians they had met on their way； they camped on the banks of a stony river whose waters were like a torrent of frozen glass。 Years later； during the second civil war； Colonel Aureliano Buendía tried to follow that same route in order to take Riohacha by surprise and after six days of traveling he understood that it was madness。 Nevertheless； the night on which they camped beside the river； his father’s host had the look of shipwrecked people with no escape； but their number had grown during the crossing and they were all prepared （and they succeeded） to die of old age。 Jos？Arcadio Buendía dreamed that night that right there a noisy city with houses having mirror wails rose up。 He asked what city it was and they answered him with a name that he had never heard； that had no meaning at all； but that had a supernatural echo in his dream： Macondo。 On the following day he convinced his men that they would never find the sea。 He ordered them to cut down the trees to make a clearing beside the river； at the coolest spot on the bank； and there they founded the village。
Jos？Arcadio Buendía did not succeed in deciphering the dream of houses with mirror walls until the day he discovered ice。 Then he thought he understood its deep meaning。 He thought that in the near future they would be able to manufacture blocks of ice on a large scale from such a mon material as water and with them build the new houses of the village。 Macondo would no longer be a burning place； where the hinges and door knockers twisted with the heat； but would be changed into a wintry city。 If he did not persevere in his attempts to build an ice factory； it was because at that time he was absolutely enthusiastic over the education of his sons； especially that of Aureliano； who from the first had revealed a strange intuition for alchemy。 The laboratory had been dusted off。 Reviewing Melquíades？notes； serene now； without the exaltation of novelty； in prolonged and patient sessions they tried to separate ？rsula’s gold from the debris that was stuck to the bottom of the pot。 Young Jos？Arcadio scarcely took part in the process。 While his father was involved body and soul with his water pipe； the willful first…born； who had always been too big for his age； had bee a monumental adolescent。 His voice had changed。 An incipient fuzz appeared on his upper lip。 One night； as ？rsula went into the room where he was undressing to go to bed； she felt a mingled sense of shame and pity： he was the first man that she had seen naked after her husband； and he was so well…equipped for life that he seemed abnormal。 ？rsula； pregnant for the third time； relived her newlywed terror。
Around that time a merry； foul…mouthed； provocative woman came to the house to help with the chorea； and she knew how to read the future in cards。 ？rsula spoke to her about her son。 She thought that his disproportionate size was something as unnatural as her cousin’s tail of a pig。 The woman let out an expansive laugh that resounded through the house like a spray of broken glass。 “Just the opposite；？she said。 “He’ll be very lucky。？In order to confirm her prediction she brought her cards to the house a few days later and locked herself up with Jos？Arcadio in a granary off the kitchen。 She calmly placed her cards on an old carpenter’s bench。 saying anything that came into her head； while the boy waited beside her； more bored than intrigued。 Suddenly she reached out her hand and touched him。 “Lordy！？she said； sincerely startled； and that was all she could say。 Jos？Arcadio felt