That after­noon, back at the house, Ameriga, Hilario’s wife, won­de­red aloud why the dogs were unable to augur their own deaths and, by exten­sion, why she, their mas­ter, was caught una­ware of the fate that would befall them : “While I was by the fire, they didn’t dream,” she said. “They just slept, those dogs, and they’re usual­ly real drea­mers. Normally while slee­ping by the fire they’ll bark ‘hua hua hua.’” Dogs, I lear­ned, dream, and, by obser­ving them as they dream, people can know what their dreams mean. If, as Ameriga imi­ta­ted, the dogs had bar­ked “hua hua” in their sleep, it would ´ have indi­ca­ted that they were drea­ming of cha­sing ani­mals, and they would, the­re­fore, have done the same in the forest the fol­lo­wing day, for this is how a dog barks when pur­suing game. If, by contrast, they had bar­ked “cuai” that night, it would have been a sure signal that a jaguar would kill them the fol­lo­wing day, for this is how dogs cry out when atta­cked by felines.