Now, she had its barraco finally, in low of a bridge. Nobody had appeared stops to complain; but it wise person that would come. Children, quiets, scared, nor if complained hunger more than. They understood, confusedly, that the situation was difficult, serious. If the water went up a little, the unstable props planted in the land more fofa, made marshy, they would not resist and everything it would be led by the river.
In it dries, only one stream of small account; under torrential rain, a violent and treacherous rapids. Everything happened suddenly: The flash of the lightning together with arrived the boom of the thunder. The door of the barraco was escancarou and Barbarian understood that it was an acknowledgment. A message of Saint Brbara, its will xar, the Saint of storms. The message was clearly: They leave daqui! But for where I go? of that skill, with these children deceased of cold, fear, hunger, bare-footed, without agasalho? But the call was very strong; again a ray crossed the sky and the thunder seemed to rummage the deepenings of the land. It took courage: she left, launched it the steep ascent of the hillside, to gain the level Da Ponte. It slid, it went up, it fell, it went up of new, seated, kneel, acocorada, helping its children, praying, making force, laughing, even, nervously, of ridicule of this tragic situation.
Finally it arrived up there pulled one relief sigh; but to the look for children saw that now they were not more the three of it; they were seven not, eight! All so dirty, cover with muded, emplastadas, that she did not give to discover who age who. She did not matter. Now they were all children its. adopted them to it in the hour; as many poor boys Jesus. He looked at for low, under the bridge and saw a spectacle frightful.