That frigid morning, very early its mother had come, muga from the leg as if it was calling or waking up it, when hearing first mugido the yearling calf began to bawl as if it would say I am mother here. That same morning gave in my birthday the yearling calf to me new born. Banquito called I it when not yet she could pronounce it blanquito, although am a little peculiar confession, we called in this way, now I realize it that its animalitos for the coproprietors is like establishment of credit (bank) arrived at their four or five years sells their bulls to acquire their different needs, for take care of that them, so that with it eats the bread, the rice, buys the kerosene, the phosphorus, also its clothes. Now the banquito one we were a great, white bull with some black spots in the back, was the last time that has been going to look for it in Pasto qata, was December, the majority of the coproprietors already had finished seeding in its small farms, also needed to the last sowing in the Supun quruy, that small farm where sowing in those months when the Earth has been watered in rains. All the morning I could not find it. He was rabid, like never, my body had been warmed up and sweated. When suddenly at the top of the Quani they began to fly some condors, flew more and more near me, as if they were making the rounds to me. I returned to the summit of that great hill Kano leg where it had found the Huayrunguito as the Earth were smooth I noticed some signs, was scared either sweated the more, was a deep bankruptcy the land, a precipice, in that part was a jam of ichus, seemed started, on rocks had been white hairs, I hit upon to be left stopped me, crestfallen, sad, fearful, banquito would have fallen to the precipice reaching to ichus. .