Old Antonio points at a macaw crossing in the afternoon sky. "Look," he says. I see the brilliant streak of colors in the gray mist of a gathering rain. "You wouldn't believe one bird could have so many colors," I say as I come to the top of the hill.

Old Antoni sits down on a hillside where the mud isn't spilling onto the main road. He catches his breath while he rolls another cigarette. A few steps further on, I see that he's lingered behind.

I go back and sit down beside him. While I'm lighting my pipe, I ask him, "Do you think we'll get to the village before the rain starts?" Old Antonio doesn't seem to hear me. This time, it's a flow of toucans that's distracted him. The cigarette in his hand is waiting to be lit to start its lazy design of smoke. He clears his throat, lights the cigarette, makes himself as comfortable as he can and slowly begins his story.

"The macaw didn't used to be like this. It hardly had any color at all. It was just gray. Its feathers were stunted, like a wet chichen - just one more bird among all the others who didn't know how he arrived in the world. The gods themselves didn't know who made the birds. Or why.

"And that's the way it was. The gods woke up after Night had said to Day 'Okay, that's it for me - your turn.' And the men and women were sleeping or they were making love, which is a nice way to become tired and then go to sleep.

"The gods were fighting. They were always fighting. They were very quarrelsome, these gods, not like the first ones, the seven gods who gave birth to the world, the very first ones. And the gods were fighting because the world was very dull with only two colors to paint it. "And the anger of the gods was a true anger because only the two colors took their turns with the world: the black which ruled the night and the white which strolled about during the day. And there was a third which wasn't a real color. It was the gray which painted the dusks and the dawns so that the black and white didn't bump into each other so hard.

"And these gods were quarrelsome but wise. They had a meeting and they finally agreed to make more colors. They wanted to make it more joyous for men and women - who were blind as bats - to take a walk or to make love. "One of the gods took to walking so that he could think better. And he thought his thoughts so deeply that he didn't look where he was going. And he tripped on a stone so big that he hit his head and it started to bleed.