ring those years that they should plant almond trees instead of acacias on the streets； and who discovered； without ever revealing it； a way to make them live forever。 Many years later； when Macondo was a field of wooden houses with zinc roofs； the broken and dusty almond trees still stood on the oldest streets； although no one knew who had planted them。 While his father was putting the town in order and his mother was increasing their wealth with her marvelous business of candied little roosters and fish； which left the house twice a day strung along sticks of balsa wood； Aureliano spent interminable hours in the abandoned laboratory； learning the art of silverwork by his own experimentation。 He had shot up so fast that in a short time the clothing left behind by his brother no longer fit him and he began to wear his father’s； but Visitación had to sew pleats in the shirt and darts in the pants； because Aureliano had not sequined the corpulence of the others。 Adolescence had taken away the softness of his voice and had made him silent and definitely solitary； but； on the other hand； it had restored the intense expression that he had had in his eyes when he was born。 He concentrated so much on his experiments in silverwork that he scarcely left the laboratory to eat。 Worried ever his inner withdrawal； Jos？Arcadio Buendía gave him the keys to the house and a little money； thinking that perhaps he needed a woman。 But Aureliano spent the money on muriatic acid to prepare some aqua regia and he beautified the keys by plating them with gold。 His excesses were hardly parable to those of Arcadio and Amaranta； who had already begun to get their second teeth and still went about all day clutching at the Indians？cloaks； stubborn in their decision not to speak Spanish but the Guajiro language。 “You shouldn’t plain。？？rsula told her husband。 “Children inherit their parents？madness。？And as she was lamenting her misfortune； convinced that the wild behavior of her children was something as fearful as a pig’s tail； Aureliano gave her a look that wrapped her in an atmosphere of uncertainty。
“Somebody is ing；？he told her。
？rsula； as she did whenever he made a prediction； tried to break it down with her housewifely logic。 It was normal for someone to be ing。 Dozens of strangers came through Macondo every day without arousing suspicion or secret ideas。 Nevertheless； beyond all logic； Aureliano was sure of his prediction。
“I don’t know who it will be；？he insisted； “but whoever it is is already on the way。？
That Sunday； in fact； Rebeca arrived。 She was only eleven years old。 She had made the difficult trip from Manaure with some hide dealers who had taken on the task of delivering her along with a letter to Jos？Arcadio Buendía； but they could not explain precisely who the person was who had asked the favor。 Her entire baggage consisted of a small trunk； a little rocking chair with small hand…painted flowers； and a canvas sack which kept making a cloc…cloc…cloc sound； where she carried her parents？bones。 The letter addressed to Jos？Arcadio Buendía was written is very warm terms by someone who still loved him very much in spite of time and distance； and who felt obliged by a basic humanitarian feeling to do the charitable thing and send him that poor unsheltered orphan； who was a second cousin of ？rsula’s and consequently also a relative of Jos？Arcadio Buendía； although farther removed； because she was the daughter of that unforgettable friend Nicanor Ulloa and his very worthy wife Rebeca Montiel； may God keep them in His holy kingdom； whose remains the girl was carrying so that they might be given Christian burial。 The names mentioned； as well as the signature on the letter； were perfectly legible； but neither Jos？Arcadio； Buendía nor ？rsula remembered having any relatives with those names； nor did they know anyone by the name of the sender of the letter； much less the remote village of Manaure。 It was impossible to obtain any further information from the girl。 From the moment she arrived she had been sitting in the rocker； sucking her finger and observing everyone with her large； startled eyes without giving any sign of understanding what they were asking her。 She wore a diagonally striped dress that had been dyed black； worn by use； and a pair of scaly patent leather boots。 Her hair was held behind her ears with bows of black ribbon。 She wore a scapular with the images worn away by sweat； and on her right wrist the fang of a carnivorous animal mounted on a backing of copper as an amulet against the evil eye。 Her greenish skin； her stomach； round and tense as a drum。 revealed poor health and hunger that were older than she was； but when they gave her something to eat she kept the plate on her knees without tasting anything。 They even began to think that she was a deaf…mute until the Indians asked her in their language if she wanted some water and she moved her eyes as if she recognized them and said yes with her head。
They kept her； because there was nothing else they could do。 They decided to call her Rebeca； which according to the letter was her mother’s name； because Aureliano had the patience to read to her the names of all the saints and he did not get a reaction from any one of them。 Since there was no cemetery in Macondo at that time； for no one had died up till then； they kept the bag of bones to wait for a worthy place of burial； and for a long time it got in the way everywhere and would be found where least expected； always with its clucking of a broody hen。 A long time passed before Rebeca became incorporated into the life of the family。 She would sit in her small rocker sucking her finger in the most remote corner of the house。 Nothing attracted her attention except the music of the clocks； which she would look for every half hour with her frightened eyes as if she hoped to find it someplace in the air。 They could not get her to eat for several days。 No one understood why she had not died of hunger until the Indians； who were aware of everything； for they went ceaselessly about the house on their stealthy feet； discovered that Rebeca only liked to eat the damp earth of the courtyard and the cake of whitewash that she picked of the walls with her nails。 It was obvious that her parents； or whoever had raised her； had scolded her for that habit because she did it secretively and with a feeling of guilt； trying to put away supplies so that she could eat when no one was looking。 From then on they put her under an implacable watch。 They threw cow gall onto the courtyard and； rubbed hot chili on the walls； thinking they could defeat her pernicious vice with those methods； but she showed such signs of astuteness and ingenuity to find some earth that ？rsula found herself forced to use more drastic methods。 She put some orange juice and rhubarb into a pan that she left in the dew all night and she gave her the dose the following day on an empty stomach。 Although no one had told her that it was the specific remedy for the vice of eating earth； she thought that any bitter substance in an empty stomach would have to make the liver react。 Rebeca was so rebellious and strong in spite of her frailness that they had to ti