July's rainstorms came in from the Caribbean Sea, pouring down with a rushing roar, slanting across the coast of this northern land. Outside the Huastec People's little village, the long river's water level surged. And the small lakes near the shore gathered together as well, forming one great lake tens upon hundreds of li wide.
"What's this lake in the rainy season called?"
The old Militia squatted at the doorway of the village chief's thatched hut, watching the endless rain outside while chatting with the wrinkled village elder. The village elder looked timid and cautious, lowering his head as he answered.
"Master... this is Mangrove Lake."
"Don't call me master... call me... forget it. Don't be scared. Suit yourself! You said, Mangrove Lake?"
"Yes! Because there's a big stretch of mangroves around it, so that's what it's called."
"Oh!"
The old Militia smiled kindly. He felt no resentment over the village elder's earlier denunciation. On the contrary, he was even a little grateful. If the village elder had not drawn the Dog-kin warriors here, he would never have had the chance to meet his son.
"Then what about this long river? What's it called?"
"Master, this long river is called Heron River. Lots of herons stop by the riverbank. From the very upper reaches all the way down to this mouth of the sea, there are these big white birds... so it's called Heron River."
"Was that name given by you people too?"
"No, no. The tribe that originally lived on this land, the Janambre People, called it that. Seems some people also call it 'Flower River.' Because there are lots of flowers by the river, flowers in spring and summer both..."
"Heron River... Flower River... It really is a beautiful river!..."
Hearing this, the old Militia Chiwako nodded. He