A brave bull invades the wake and jumps into its owner’s grave to prevent him from being buried. Minutes later, the coffin begins to shake, and when they open it, everyone is terrified by what is happening inside. The sun begins to shine on the Brazilian wetland, leaving the landscape in golden and orange tones. Andrés, a 35-year-old farmer, was already getting up for another hard day. He likes to get up early to take care of his cattle and farm chores. Among all the animals, there was a bull that Andrés had a special appreciation for. It was a true marrua, a typical wild bull from Brazil, captured by him on a great adventure. Andrés loved to tell this story to anyone who would hear it. After all, it was a legitimate marris, the type of fighting bull that, according to many, had disappeared from the wetland years ago. Dora, his wife, was worried about the proximity between her husband and that ferocious animal. Although the marua was already accustomed to Andrés, the woman could not shake the fear that one day the bull might attack him. That was Still an animal with the temperament
of the jungle
an unpredictable being, but the farmer, perhaps because he had been left behind by some inexplicable charm, maintained a unique connection with the marua in that region. No one else believed that a legitimate marri still existed, lost in the wetland. The younger farmers had only heard stories told by their parents
and grandparents, stories of the times when they went out to capture those indomitable bulls, risking their own lives to bring back to the herd an animal as rare as it was valuable. Andrés, since he was a child, had grown up listening to those stories. His father and mother always told adventures about the marruá, both reports of brave captures and of bulls so brave that they took the life of more than one man. The Carmelita farm, Andrés’s home, has always been the setting for his aspirations to capture a legitimate marri. Since he was a child, he dreamed of finding one of these wild animals. But as he grew older and
prepared for that hunt, the marruá began to disappear. The few that remained were captured by the older, more experienced farmers. To obtain other breeds, so the wild genetics were lost over time. The result was that no one else saw a wild marua, but Andrés
refused to believe that. He firmly believed that there were still some wild marua hiding in the dense wetland forests. And so, whether it was sun or rain, heat or cold, Andrés delved into the forest. Day after day in search of his long-dreamed-of bull. As time went by, Andrés married Dora. He inherited his father’s small farm and built a simple life raising his animals and living off the sale of milk, eggs, and vegetables that he grew. Soon the children arrived and the family seemed complete. But the farmer still felt that something was missing: a legitimate marua to
complete his herd. The day after his birthday, at 34, he got up as always, still at dawn. He put on his old leather boots, put on his hat, and went to the kitchen where Dora was preparing breakfast. A delicious meal made of still-hot corn was waiting for him. Andrés
smiled with an unusual happiness in his eyes. Today is the big day, Dora. He said with conviction, “What day did she ask?” Curious, “Today is the day I’m going to capture the sea I’ve dreamed of so much. I’m going to a distant forest, a region no one has yet explored.
I’m sure it’s there.” Dora looked at her husband, worried. She knew well that fixed idea he’d had since he was a child, but everyone knew the Marruá were extinct. “Andrés, leave that, those Marruá no longer exist. You should dedicate yourself to what we have here.” He shook his head. He was determined and nothing would change his mind. He kissed his wife. He went to his room and stayed for a while, watching his children sleep, with a soft smile. Then he took the truck and went down the dusty road toward the forest where he thought he would find what he was looking for.
The trip lasted more than two hours. When he arrived, Andrés parked the vehicle on a dirt road. He got out, grabbed his lasso, and with firm steps, entered the forest. The air was thick and humid, and the dense vegetation didn’t let the sun through. Andrés moved in silence, adrenaline racing, his heart attentive to every sound.
After two hours of intense walking, Something under his feet caught his attention. He stepped on something. Looking down, he realized it was bovine excrement. The farmer’s heart almost stopped when he realized what that meant. There was a bull in that region, and judging by the freshness of the excrement, it wasn’t far away. He walked cautiously for a few more minutes until he reached something resembling a valley formed by mountains and a small lake in the center. There, next to the water, was what his eyes couldn’t believe: an imposing bull with wide horns and surprising muscles that stared at him. Andrés was sure he was facing a
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