The Magic Fruit

 

In the time, long ago, when great and marvellous magicians lived on earth, Coniraya was the greatest. With his hollow stick he could flatten mountains. He could bring water to dry places. He could make magic that was big and strong. Yet, sometimes, because he liked jokes and pranks, he just looked around and made mischief.

 

Now while Coniraya was the greatest among magicians, there was a young woman called Cavillaca who was the most beautiful. She was so beautiful that every young man, as soon as he saw her, wanted to marry her. But Cavillaca was proud; no living man was handsome enough or powerful enough for her. And so she refused to marry.

 

One day Coniraya was walking about the world disguised as a poor Indian, when he saw Cavillaca sitting under a tree, weaving. Then, like every other young man, he wanted to marry her.

 

“Greetings, beautiful Cavillaca,” he said, But Cavillaca kept her eyes on her weaving.

 

So Coniraya thought up some mischief.

 

Next moment - there he was – a large bird with glorious rainbow-coloured feathers. He spread his wide wings and flew up to sit on a branch of the lacuma tree that stretched out above Cavillaca, and he began to sing.

 

But still she kept her eyes on the weaving.

 

 

Then Coniraya thought up some more mischief, He conjured up a fruit; a lovely ripe golden orange fruit and he hid strong magic inside that fruit and dropped it straight down into Cavillaca’s lap.

 

Well, the fruit looked so lovely she had to pick it up. Then it smelt so good, she had to bite into it. And the taste was so delicious; she ate it to the last juicy mouthful. 

 

She did not guess that it was a magic fruit.

 

Months passed by, and because of the magic fruit, Cavillaca had a son. He was a happy, smiling, beautiful baby and she loved him with a great love.

 

But she was curious and kept wondering who had made the magic and given her this baby …and how it had been done … and when.  She thought about it and thought about it; and when the baby was almost a year old and could crawl, she decided that she would find out who was the father of her beautiful child, and then she would marry him, because, without doubt, he must be both exceedingly powerful and exceedingly handsome. So she summoned the great magicians to a meeting.

 

Of course, all the magicians came dressed in their most splendid robes, hoping that Cavillaca would notice them. All except for Coniraya, who was dressed, once again, in the torn, shabby clothes of a poor Indian.

 

The meeting began, and Cavillaca stood, proud and beautiful, with her baby in her arms. “Until this time I have always refused to marry” she said, “but now I solemnly promise that I will marry the father of my son, if he will make himself known to me.”

 

But no one spoke. No one moved.

 

“If you will not speak, then my son shall tell me,” said Cavillaca. He will know his father and go to him.” And she put the baby on the ground. Immediately he was off, crawling eagerly straight towards the shabby Indian. And when he reached the Indian’s feet, he looked up and stretched out his arms.

 

Proud Cavillaca was angry.

 

“A poor Indian! No, I will not marry a poor Indian!” she cried she ran to the baby and swept him up in her arms. “Though I have given my promise,” she said, “I will never marry him. I would rather die.

And she clasped the baby close to her and ran off.

 

“Stop!” Coniraya called out. “Stop! Things are not as they seem!” But Cavillaca ran on and would not listen.

 

Then Coniraya struck the ground with his hollow stick, Next moment there he was dressed in magnificent robes, dazzling and golden.

 

He called, “Beautiful Cavillaca, look back! Turn your eyes towards me and see how handsome and splendid I have become!”

 

But she ran on. And Coniraya was afraid of her stubborn pride and sorry for his own mischief-making, and he ran after her. But she heard him coming and gathered together her own powerful magic and hid herself from him and ran faster, faster, ever faster.

 

 

Though he could not tell where Cavillaca had gone, Coniraya was determined to find her. He ran and ran, asking everyone he met if they had seen her, but no one had.

 

At last, good fortune came, and he met the Condor who had seen her and was able to show him the way.

 

Coniraya blessed the Condor. “I give you power to fly over the valleys and wild places and to eat where you will,” he said. “A curse be on those who kill the Condor.”

 

Coniraya ran on and more good fortune came.

 

He met the Falcon who had also seen Cavillaca and was able to show him the way.

 

Coniraya blessed the Falcon. “I give you power to soar above the mountains,” he said. “In song and dance the Indian shall always praise the’ Falcon.”

 

Coniraya ran on and again good fortune came. He met the Puma who was also able to show him the way.

 

Coniraya blessed the Puma. “I give you power over all other living creatures,” he said. “At all times and everywhere the Indian shall honour the Puma.

 

Coniraya ran on ‘He came to the sea and there he saw Cavillaca running across the sandy shore.

 

 He called to her, but she would not look back.

 

She gathered together her magic powers, and, holding the baby close in her arms, she plunged into the sea. Next moment—there was no beautiful Cavillaca and no baby. They were gone.

 

In their place stood two rocks, a large one and a small one close beside it. Two rocks and the waves gently lapping against them. That was all.