That afternoon with Rima in the forest under the mora tree had proved so
delightful that I was eager for more rambles and talks with her, but the
variable little witch had a great surprise in store for me. All her wild
natural gaiety had unaccountably gone out of her: when I walked in
the shade she was there, but no longer as the blithe, fantastic being,
bright as an angel, innocent and affectionate as a child, tricksy as a
monkey, that had played at hide-and-seek with me. She was now my shy,
silent attendant, only occasionally visible, and appearing then like
the mysterious maid I had found reclining among the ferns who had melted
away mist-like from sight as I gazed. When I called she would not now
answer as formerly, but in response would appear in sight as if to
assure me that I had not been forsaken; and after a few moments her grey
shadowy form would once more vanish among the trees. The hope that as
her confidence increased and she grew accustomed to talk with me she
would be brought to reveal the story of her life had to be abandoned, at
all events for the present. I must, after all, get my information from
Nuflo, or rest in ignorance. The old man was out for the greater part
of each day with his dogs, and from these expeditions he brought back
nothing that I could see but a few nuts and fruits, some thin bark for
his cigarettes, and an occasional handful of haima gum to perfume the
hut of an evening. After I had wasted three days in vainly trying to
overcome the girl’s now inexplicable shyness, I resolved to give for
a while my undivided attention to her grandfather to discover, if
possible, where he went and how he spent his time.
My new game of hide-and-seek with Nuflo instead of with Rima began
on the following morning. He was cunning; so was I. Going out and
concealing myself among the bushes, I began to watch the hut. That I
could elude Rima’s keener eyes I doubted; but that did not trouble me.
She was not in harmony with the old man, and would do nothing to defeat
my plan. I had not been long in my hiding-place before he came out,
followed by his two dogs, and going to some distance from the door,
he sat down on a log. For some minutes he smoked, then rose, and after
looking cautiously round slipped away among the trees. I saw that he was
going off in the direction of the low range of rocky hills south of the
forest. I knew that the forest did not extend far in that direction, and
thinking that I should be able to catch a sight of him on its borders,
I left the bushes and ran through the trees as fast as I could to get
ahead of him. Coming to where the wood was very open, I found that a
barren plain beyond it, a quarter of a mile wide, separated it from the
range of hills; thinking that the old man might cross this open space,
I climbed into a tree to watch. After some time he appeared, walking
rapidly among the trees, the dogs at his heels, but not going towards
the open plain; he had, it seemed, after arriving at the edge of the
wood, changed his direction and was going west, still keeping in the
shelter of the trees. When he had been gone about five minutes, I
dropped to the ground and started in pursuit; once more I caught sight
of him through the trees, and I kept him in sight for about twenty
minutes longer; then he came to a broad strip of dense wood which
extended into and through the range of hills, and here I quickly lost
him. Hoping still to overtake him, I pushed on, but after struggling
through the underwood for some distance, and finding the forest growing
more difficult as I progressed, I at last gave him up. Turning eastward,
I got out of the wood to find myself at the foot of a steep rough hill,
one of the range which the wooded valley cut through at right angles. It
struck me that it would be a good plan to climb the hill to get a view
of the forest belt in which I had lost the old man; and after walking a
short distance I found a spot which allowed of an ascent. The summit of
the hill was about three hundred feet above the surrounding level and
did not take me long to reach; it commanded a fair view, and I now saw
that the belt of wood beneath me extended right through the range, and
on the south side opened out into an extensive forest. “If that is your
destination,” thought I, “old fox, your secrets are safe from me.”
It was still early in the day, and a slight breeze tempered the air and
made it cool and pleasant on the hilltop after my exertions. My scramble
through the wood had fatigued me somewhat, and resolving to spend some
hours on that spot, I looked round for a comfortable resting-place. I
soon found a shady spot on the west side of an upright block of stone
where I could recline at ease on a bed of lichen. Here, with shoulders
resting against the rock, I sat thinking of Rima, alone in her wood
today, with just a tinge of bitterness in my thoughts which made me hope
that she would miss me as much as I missed her; and in the end I fell
asleep.
When I woke, it was past noon, and the sun was shining directly on me.
Standing up to gaze once more on the prospect, I noticed a small wreath
of white smoke issuing from a spot about the middle of the forest belt
beneath me, and I instantly divined that Nuflo had made a fire at that
place, and I resolved to surprise him in his retreat. When I got down
to the base of the hill the smoke could no longer be seen, but I had
studied the spot well from above, and had singled out a large clump of
trees on the edge of the belt as a starting-point; and after a search of
half an hour I succeeded in finding the old man’s hiding-place. First I
saw smoke again through an opening in the trees, then a small rude hut
of sticks and palm leaves. Approaching cautiously, I peered through a
crack and discovered old Nuflo engaged in smoking some meat over a fire,
and at the same time grilling some bones on the coals. He had captured
a coatimundi, an animal somewhat larger than a tame tom-cat, with a long
snout and long ringed tail; one of the dogs was gnawing at the animal’s
head, and the tail and the feet were also lying on the floor, among
the old bones and rubbish that littered it. Stealing round, I suddenly
presented myself at the opening to his den, when the dogs rose up with a
growl and Nuflo instantly leaped to his feet, knife in hand.
“Aha, old man,” I cried, with a laugh, “I have found you at one of your
vegetarian repasts; and your grass-eating dogs as well!”
He was disconcerted and suspicious, but when I explained that I had seen
a smoke while on the hills, where I had gone to search for a curious
blue flower which grew in such places, and had made my way to it to
discover the cause, he recovered confidence and invited me to join him
at his dinner of roast meat.
I was hungry by this time and not sorry to get animal food once more;
nevertheless, I ate this meat with some disgust, as it had a rank taste
and smell, and it was also unpleasant to have those evil-looking dogs
savagely gnawing at the animal’s head and feet at the same time.
“You see,” said the old hypocrite, wiping the grease from his moustache,
“this is what I am compelled to do in order to avoid giving offence. My
granddaughter is a strange being, sir, as you have perhaps observed--”
“That reminds me,” I interrupted, “that I wish you to relate her history
to me. She is, as you say, strange, and has speech and faculties unlike
ours, which shows that she comes of a different race.”
“No, no, her faculties are not different from ours. They are sharper,
that is all. It pleases the All-Powerful to give more to some than to
others. Not all the fingers on the hand are alike. You will find a man
who will take up a guitar and make it speak, while I--”
“All that I understand,” I broke in again. “But her origin, her
history--that is what I wish to hear.”
“And that, sir, is precisely what I am about to relate. Poor child,
she was left on my hands by her sainted mother--my daughter, sir--who
perished young. Now, her birthplace, where she was taught letters and
the Catechism by the priest, was in an unhealthy situation. It was
hot and wet--always wet--a place suited to frogs rather than to human
beings. At length, thinking that it would suit the child better--for she
was pale and weakly--to live in a drier atmosphere among mountains, I
brought her to this district. For this, senor, and for all I have done
for her, I look for no reward here, but to that place where my daughter
has got her foot; not, sir, on the threshold, as you might think, but
well inside. For, after all, it is to the authorities above, in spite of
some blots which we see in their administration, that we must look for
justice. Frankly, sir, this is the whole story of my granddaughter’s
origin.”
“Ah, yes,” I returned, “your story explains why she can call a wild bird
to her hand, and touch a venomous serpent with her bare foot and receive
no harm.”
“Doubtless you are right,” said the old dissembler. “Living alone in the
wood, she had only God’s creatures to play and make friends with; and
wild animals, I have heard it said, know those who are friendly towards
them.”
“You treat her friends badly,” said I, kicking the long tail of the
coatimundi away with my foot, and regretting that I had joined in his
repast.
“Senor, you must consider that we are only what Heaven made us. When all
this was formed,” he continued, opening his arms wide to indicate the
entire creation, “the Person who concerned Himself with this matter gave
seeds and fruitless and nectar of flowers for the sustentation of His
small birds. But we have not their delicate appetites. The more robust
stomach which he gave to man cries out for meat. Do you understand? But
of all this, friend, not one word to Rima!”
I laughed scornfully. “Do you think me such a child, old man, as to
believe that Rima, that little sprite, does not know that you are an
eater of flesh? Rima, who is everywhere in the wood, seeing all things,
even if I lift my hand against a serpent, she herself unseen.”
“But, sir, if you will pardon my presumption, you are saying too much.
She does not come here, and therefore cannot see that I eat meat. In all
that wood where she flourishes and sings, where she is in her house and
garden, and mistress of the creatures, even of the small butterfly with
painted wings, there, sir, I hunt no animal. Nor will my dogs chase any
animal there. That is what I meant when I said that if an animal should
stumble against their legs, they would lift up their noses and pass on
without seeing it. For in that wood there is one law, the law that Rima
imposes, and outside of it a different law.”
“I am glad that you have told me this,” I replied. “The thought that
Rima might be near, and, unseen herself, look in upon us feeding with
the dogs and, like dogs, on flesh, was one which greatly troubled my
mind.”
He glanced at me in his usual quick, cunning way.
“Ah, senor, you have that feeling too--after so short a time with us!
Consider, then, what it must be for me, unable to nourish myself on gums
and fruitlets, and that little sweetness made by wasps out of flowers,
when I am compelled to go far away and eat secretly to avoid giving
offence.”
It was hard, no doubt, but I did not pity him; secretly I could only
feel anger against him for refusing to enlighten me, while making such
a presence of openness; and I also felt disgusted with myself for having
joined him in his rank repast. But dissimulation was necessary, and so,
after conversing a little more on indifferent topics, and thanking him
for his hospitality, I left him alone to go on with his smoky task.
On my way back to the lodge, fearing that some taint of Nuflo’s
evil-smelling den and dinner might still cling to me, I turned aside to
where a streamlet in the wood widened and formed a deep pool, to take
a plunge in the water. After drying myself in the air, and thoroughly
ventilating my garments by shaking and beating them, I found an open,
shady spot in the wood and threw myself on the grass to wait for evening
before returning to the house. By that time the sweet, warm air would
have purified me. Besides, I did not consider that I had sufficiently
punished Rima for her treatment of me. She would be anxious for my
safety, perhaps even looking for me everywhere in the wood. It was not
much to make her suffer one day after she had made me miserable for
three; and perhaps when she discovered that I could exist without her
society she would begin to treat me less capriciously.
So ran my thoughts as I rested on the warm ground, gazing up into the
foliage, green as young grass in the lower, shady parts, and above
luminous with the bright sunlight, and full of the murmuring sounds of
insect life. My every action, word, thought, had my feeling for Rima
as a motive. Why, I began to ask myself, was Rima so much to me? It was
easy to answer that question: Because nothing so exquisite had ever been
created. All the separate and fragmentary beauty and melody and
graceful motion found scattered throughout nature were concentrated and
harmoniously combined in her. How various, how luminous, how divine she
was! A being for the mind to marvel at, to admire continually, finding
some new grace and charm every hour, every moment, to add to the old.
And there was, besides, the fascinating mystery surrounding her origin
to arouse and keep my interest in her continually active.
That was the easy answer I returned to the question I had asked myself.
But I knew that there was another answer--a reason more powerful than
the first. And I could no longer thrust it back, or hide its shining
face with the dull, leaden mask of mere intellectual curiosity. BECAUSE
I LOVED HER; loved her as I had never loved before, never could love
any other being, with a passion which had caught something of her
own brilliance and intensity, making a former passion look dim and
commonplace in comparison--a feeling known to everyone, something old
and worn out, a weariness even to think of.
From these reflections I was roused by the plaintive three-syllable call
of an evening bird--a nightjar common in these woods; and was surprised
to find that the sun had set, and the woods already shadowed with the
twilight. I started up and began hurriedly walking homewards, thinking
of Rima, and was consumed with impatience to see her; and as I drew near
to the house, walking along a narrow path which I knew, I suddenly met
her face to face. Doubtless she had heard my approach, and instead of
shrinking out of the path and allowing me to pass on without seeing her,
as she would have done on the previous day, she had sprung forward to
meet me. I was struck with wonder at the change in her as she came with
a swift, easy motion, like a flying bird, her hands outstretched as if
to clasp mine, her lips parted in a radiant, welcoming smile, her eyes
sparkling with joy.
I started forward to meet her, but had no sooner touched her hands than
her countenance changed, and she shrunk back trembling, as if the touch
had chilled her warm blood; and moving some feet away, she stood with
downcast eyes, pale and sorrowful as she had seemed yesterday. In vain I
implored her to tell me the cause of this change and of the trouble she
evidently felt; her lips trembled as if with speech, but she made no
reply, and only shrunk further away when I attempted to approach her;
and at length, moving aside from the path, she was lost to sight in the
dusky leafage.
I went on alone, and sat outside for some time, until old Nuflo returned
from his hunting; and only after he had gone in and had made the fire
burn up did Rima make her appearance, silent and constrained as ever.