with the wild animals she loved, her companions; and having no

fear of them, for she did not know that they had it in their
minds to turn their little poisonous arrows against herself, she

was constantly in the woods frustrating them; and the animals, in
league with her, seemed to understand her note of warning and hid

themselves or took to flight at the approach of danger. At
length their hatred and fear grew to such a degree that they

determined to make away with her, and one day, having matured a
plan, they went to the wood and spread themselves two and two

about it. The couples did not keep together, but moved about or
remained concealed at a distance of forty or fifty yards apart,

lest she should be missed. Two of the savages, armed with
blow-pipes, were near the border of the forest on the side

nearest to the village, and one of them, observing a motion in
the foliage of a tree, ran swiftly and cautiously towards it to

try and catch a glimpse of the enemy. And he did see her no
doubt, as she was there watching both him and his companions, and

blew an arrow at her, but even while in the act of blowing it he
was himself struck by a dart that buried itself deep in his flesh

just over the heart. He ran some distance with the fatal barbed
point in his flesh and met his comrade, who had mistaken him for

the girl and shot him. The wounded man threw himself down to
die, and dying related that he had fired at the girl sitting up

in a tree and that she had caught the arrow in her hand only to
hurl it instantly back with such force and precision that it

pierced his flesh just over the heart. He had seen it all with
his own eyes, and his friend who had accidentally slain him

believed his story and repeated it to the others. Rima had seen
one Indian shoot the other, and when she told her grandfather he

explained to her that it was an accident, but he guessed why the
arrow had been fired.

From that day the Indians hunted no more in the wood; and at
length one day Nuflo, meeting an Indian who did not know him and

with whom he had some talk, heard the strange story of the arrow,
and that the mysterious girl who could not be shot was the

offspring of an old man and a Didi who had become enamoured of
him; that, growing tired of her consort, the Didi had returned to

her river, leaving her half-human child to play her malicious
pranks in the wood.

This, then, was Nuflo's story, told not in Nuflo's manner, which
was infinitely prolix; and think not that it failed to move

me--that I failed to bless him for what he had done, in spite of
his selfish motives.

CHAPTER XVI
We were eighteen days travelling to Riolama, on the last two

making little progress, on account of continuous rain, which made
us miserable beyond description. Fortunately the dogs had found,

and Nuflo had succeeded in killing, a great ant-eater, so that we
were well supplied with excellent, strength-giving flesh. We

were among the Riolama mountains at last, and Rima kept with us,
apparently expecting great things. I expected nothing, for

reasons to be stated by and by. My belief was that the only
important thing that could happen to us would be starvation.

The afternoon of the last day was spent in skirting the foot of a
very long mountain, crowned at its southern extremity with a

huge, rocky mass resembling the head of a stone sphinx above its
long, couchant body, and at its highest part about a thousand

feet above the surrounding level. It was late in the day,
raining fast again, yet the old man still toiled on, contrary to

his usual practice, which was to spend the last daylight hours in
gathering firewood and in constructing a shelter. At length,

when we were nearly under the peak, he began to ascend. The rise
in this place was gentle, and the vegetation, chieflycomposed of

dwarf thorn trees rooted in the clefts of the rock, scarcely
impeded our progress; yet Nuflo moved obliquely, as if he found

the ascent difficult, pausing frequently to take breath and look
round him. Then we came to a deep, ravine-like cleft in the side

of the mountain, which became deeper and narrower above us, but
below it broadened out to a valley; its steep sides as we looked

down were clothed with dense, thornyvegetation, and from the
bottom rose to our ears the dull sound of a hidden torrent.

Along the border of this ravine Nuflo began toiling upwards, and
finally brought us out upon a stony plateau on the mountain-side.

Here he paused and, turning and regarding us with a look as of
satisfied malice in his eyes, remarked that we were at our

journey's end, and he trusted the sight of that barren
mountain-side would compensate us for all the discomforts we had

suffered during the last eighteen days.
I heard him with indifference. I had already recognized the

place from his own exact description of it, and I now saw all
that I had looked to see--a big, barren hill. But Rima, what had

she expected that her face wore that blank look of surprise and
pain? "Is this the place where mother appeared to you?" she

suddenly cried. "The very place--this! This!" Then she added:
"The cave where you tended her--where is it?"

"Over there," he said, pointing across the plateau, which was
partially overgrown with dwarf trees and bushes, and ended at a

wall of rock, almost vertical and about forty feet high.
Going to this precipice, we saw no cave until Nuflo had cut away

two or three tangled bushes, revealing an opening behind, about
half as high and twice as wide as the door of an ordinary

dwelling-house.
The next thing was to make a torch, and aided by its light we

groped our way in and explored the interior. The cave, we found,
was about fifty feet long, narrowing to a mere hole at the

extremity; but the anterior portion formed an oblong chamber,
very lofty, with a dry floor. Leaving our torch burning, we set

to work cutting bushes to supply ourselves with wood enough to
last us all night. Nuflo, poor old man, loved a big fire dearly;

a big fire and fat meat to eat (the ranker its flavour, the
better he liked it) were to him the greatest blessings that man

could wish for. In me also the prospect of a cheerful blaze put
a new heart, and I worked with a will in the rain, which

increased in the end to a blinding downpour.
By the time I dragged my last load in, Nuflo had got his fire

well alight, and was heaping on wood in a most lavish way. "No
fear of burning our house down tonight," he remarked, with a

chuckle--the first sound of that description he had emitted for a
long time.

After we had satisfied our hunger, and had smoked one or two
cigarettes, the unaccustomed warmth, and dryness, and the

firelight affected us with drowsiness, and I had probably been
nodding for some time; but starting at last and opening my eyes,

I missed Rima. The old man appeared to be asleep, although still
in a sitting posture close to the fire. I rose and hurried out,

drawing my cloak close around me to protect me from the rain; but
what was my surprise on emerging from the cave to feel a dry,

bracing wind in my face and to see the desert spread out for
leagues before me in the brilliant white light of a full moon!

The rain had apparently long ceased, and only a few thin white
clouds appeared moving swiftly over the wide blue expanse of

heaven. It was a welcome change, but the shock of surprise and
pleasure was instantly succeeded by the maddening fear that Rima

was lost to me. She was nowhere in sight beneath, and running to
the end of the little plateau to get free of the thorn trees, I

turned my eyes towards the summit, and there, at some distance
above me, caught sight of her standingmotionless and gazing

upwards. I quickly made my way to her side, calling to her as I
approached; but she only half turned to cast a look at me and did

not reply.
"Rima," I said, "why have you come here? Are you actually

thinking of climbing the mountain at this hour of the night?"
"Yes--why not?" she returned, moving one or two steps from me.

"Rima--sweet Rima, will you listen to me?"