Petronila Iguarán there with the bothersome crinolines and the beaded jacket that she put on for formal visits； and she found Tranquilina Maria Miniata Alacoque Buendía； her grandmother； fanning herself with a peacock feather in her invalid’s rocking chair； and her great…grandfather Aureliano Arcadio Buendía； with his imitation dolman of the viceregal guard； and Aureliano Iguarán； her father； who had invented a prayer to make the worms shrivel up and drop off cows； and her timid mother； and her cousin with the pig’s tail； and Jos？Arcadio Buendía； and her dead sons； all sitting in chairs lined up against the wall as if it were a wake and not a visit。 She was tying a colorful string of chatter together； menting on things from many separate places and many different times； so that when Amaranta ？rsula returned from school and Aureliano grew tired of the encyclopedia； they would find her sitting on her bed； talking to herself and lost in a labyrinth of dead people。 “Fire！？she shouted once in terror and for an instant panic spread through the house； but what she was telling about was the burning of a barn that she had witnessed when she was four years old。 She finally mixed up the past with the present in such a way that in the two or three waves of lucidity that she had before she died； no one knew for certain whether she was speaking about what she felt or what she remembered。 Little by little she was shrinking； turning into a fetus； being mummified in life to the point that in her last months she was a cherry raisin lost inside of her nightgown； and the arm that she always kept raised looked like the paw of a marimonda monkey。 She was motionless for several days； and Santa Sofía de la Piedad had to shake her to convince herself that she was alive and sat her on her lap to feed her a few spoonfuls of sugar water。 She looked like a newborn old woman。 Amaranta ？rsula and Aureliano would take her in and out of the bedroom； they would lay her on the altar to see if she was any larger than the Christ child； and one afternoon they hid her in a closet in the Pantry where the rats could have eaten her。 One Palm Sunday they went into the bedroom while Fernanda was in church and carried ？rsula out by the neck and ankles。
“Poor great…great…grandmother；？Amaranta ？rsula said。 “She died of old age。？
？rsula was startled。
“I’m alive！？she said。
“You can see。？Amaranta ？rsula said； suppressing her laughter； “that she’s not even breathing。？
“I’m talking！？？rsula shouted。
“She can’t even talk；？Aureliano said。 “She died like a little cricket。？
Then ？rsula gave in to the evidence。 “My God；？she exclaimed in a low voice。 “So this is what it’s like to be dead。？She started an endless； stumbling； deep prayer that lasted more than two days； and that by Tuesday had degenerated into a hodgepodge of requests to God and bits of practical advice to stop the red ants from bringing the house down； to keep the lamp burning by Remedios？daguerreotype； and never to let any Buendía marry a person of the same blood because their children would be born with the tail of a pig。 Aureliano Segundo tried to take advantage of her delirium to get her to ten him where the gold was buried； but his entreaties were useless once more “When the owner appears；？？rsula said； “God will illuminate him so that he will find it。？Santa Sofía de la Piedad had the certainty that they would find her dead from one moment to the next； because she noticed during those days a certain confusion in nature： the roses smelled like goosefoot； a pod of chick peas fell down and the beans lay on the ground in a perfect geometrical pattern in the shape of a starfish and one night she saw a row of luminous orange disks pass across the sky。
They found her dead on the morning of Good Friday。 The last time that they had helped her calculate her age； during the time of the banana pany； she had estimated it as between one hundred fifteen and one hundred twenty…two。 They buried her in a coffin that was not much larger than the basket in which Aureliano had arrived； and very few people were at the funeral； partly because there wet not many left who remembered her； and partly because it was so hot that noon that the birds in their confusion were running into walls like day pigeons and breaking through screens to die in the bedrooms。
At first they thought it was a plague。 Housewives were exhausted from sweeping away so many dead birds； especially at siesta time； and the men dumped them into the river by the cartload。 On Easter Sunday the hundred…year…old Father Antonio Isabel stated from the pulpit that the death of the birds was due to the evil influence of the Wandering Jew； whom he himself had seen the night before。 He described him as a cross between a billy goat and a female heretic； an infernal beast whose breath scorched the air and whose look brought on the birth of monsters in newlywed women。 There were not many who paid attention to his apocalyptic talk； for the town was convinced that the priest was rambling because of his age。 But one woman woke everybody up at dawn on Wednesday because she found the tracks of a biped with a cloven hoof。 They were so clear and unmistakable that those who went to look at them had no doubt about the existence of a fearsome creature similar to the one described by the parish priest and they got together to set traps in their courtyards。 That was how they managed to capture it。 Two weeks after ？rsula’s death； Petra Cotes and Aureliano Segundo woke up frightened by the especially loud bellowing of a calf that was ing from nearby。 When they got there a group of men were already pulling the monster off the sharpened stakes they had set in the bottom of a pit covered with dry leaves； and it stopped lowing。 It was as heavy as an ox in spite of the fact that it was no taller than a young steer； and a green and greasy liquid flowed from its wounds。 Its body was covered with rough hair； plagued with small ticks； and the skin was hardened with the scales of a remora fish； but unlike the priest’s description； its human parts were more like those of a sickly angel than of a man； for its hands were tense and agile； its eyes large and gloomy； and on its shoulder blades it had the scarred…over and calloused stumps of powerful wings which must have been chopped off by a woodsman’s ax。 They hung it to an almond tree in the square by its ankles so that everyone could see it； and when it began to rot they burned it in a bonfire； for they could not determine whether its bastard nature was that of an animal to be thrown into the river or a human being to be buried。 It was never established whether it had really caused the death of the birds； but the newly married women did not bear the predicted monsters； nor did the intensity of the heat decrease。
Rebeca died at the end of that year。 Argénida； her lifelong servant； asked the authorities for help to knock down the door to the bedroom where her mistress had been locked in for three days； and they found her； on her solitary bed； curled up like a shrimp； with her head bald from ringworm and her finger in her mouth。 Aureliano Segundo took charge of the funeral and tried to restore the