The eyes of the mongoose had not left me during the whole time that I
was about my sad duty. When she heard the first handfuls of sand fall
on the _haik_, she gave a sharp cry. I looked at her and saw her ready
to spring, her eyes daring fire.
"Galé!" I implored; and I tried to stroke her.
She bit my hand and then leapt into the grave and began to dig,
throwing the sand furiously aside.
I tried three times to chase her away. I felt that I should never
finish my task and that, even if I did, Galé would stay there and
disinter the body.
My carbine lay at my feet. A shot drew echoes from the immense empty
desert. A moment later, Galé also slept her last sleep, curled up, as
I so often had seen her, against the neck of her mistress.
When the surface showed nothing more than a little mound of trampled
sand, I rose staggering and started off aimlessly into the desert,
toward the south.