Ah, that return to the forest where Rima dwelt, after so anxious day, when the declining sun shone hotly still, and the green woodland shadows were so grateful! The coolness, the sense of security, allayed1 the fever and excitement I had suffered on the open savannah; I walked leisurely2, pausing often to listen to some bird voice or to admire some rare insect or parasitic3 flower shining star-like in the shade. There was a strangely delightful4 sensation in me. I likened myself to a child that, startled at something it had seen while out playing in the sun, flies to its mother to feel her caressing5 hand on its cheek and forget its tremors6. And describing what I felt in that way, I was a little ashamed and laughed at myself; nevertheless the feeling was very sweet. At that moment Mother and Nature seemed one and the same thing. As I kept to the more open part of the wood, on its southernmost border, the red flame of the sinking sun was seen at intervals7 through the deep humid green of the higher foliage8. How every object it touched took from it a new wonderful glory! At one spot, high up where the foliage was scanty9, and slender bush ropes and moss10 depended like broken cordage from a dead limb — just there, bathing itself in that glory-giving light, I noticed a fluttering bird, and stood still to watch its antics. Now it would cling, head downwards11, to the slender twigs12, wings and tail open; then, righting itself, it would flit from waving line to line, dropping lower and lower; and anon soar upwards13 a distance of twenty feet and alight to recommence the flitting and swaying and dropping towards the earth. It was one of those birds that have a polished plumage, and as it moved this way and that, flirting14 its feathers, they caught the beams and shone at moments like glass or burnished15 metal. Suddenly another bird of the same kind dropped down to it as if from the sky, straight and swift as a falling stone; and the first bird sprang up to meet the comer, and after rapidly wheeling round each other for a moment, they fled away in company, screaming shrilly16 through the wood, and were instantly lost to sight, while their jubilant cries came back fainter and fainter at each repetition.
I envied them not their wings: at that moment earth did not seem fixed17 and solid beneath me, nor I bound by gravity to it. The faint, floating clouds, the blue infinite heaven itself, seemed not more ethereal and free than I, or the ground I walked on. The low, stony18 hills on my right hand, of which I caught occasional glimpses through the trees, looking now blue and delicate in the level rays, were no more than the billowy projections19 on the moving cloud of earth: the trees of unnumbered kinds — great more, cecropia, and greenheart, bush and fern and suspended lianas, and tall palms balancing their feathery foliage on slender stems — all was but a fantastic mist embroidery20 covering the surface of that floating cloud on which my feet were set, and which floated with me near the sun.
The red evening flame had vanished from the summits of the trees, the sun was setting, the woods in shadow, when I got to the end of my walk. I did not approach the house on the side of the door, yet by some means those within became aware of my presence, for out they came in a great hurry, Rima leading the way, Nuflo behind her, waving his arms and shouting. But as I drew near, the girl dropped behind and stood motionless regarding me, her face pallid21 and showing strong excitement. I could scarcely remove my eyes from her eloquent22 countenance23: I seemed to read in it relief and gladness mingled24 with surprise and something like vexation. She was piqued25 perhaps that I had taken her by surprise, that after much watching for me in the wood I had come through it undetected when she was indoors.
“Happy the eyes that see you!” shouted the old man, laughing boisterously26.
“Happy are mine that look on Rima again,” I answered. “I have been long absent.”
“Long — you may say so,” returned Nuflo. “We had given you up. We said that, alarmed at the thought of the journey to Riolama, you had abandoned us.”
“We said!” exclaimed Rima, her pallid face suddenly flushing. “I spoke27 differently.”
“Yes, I know — I know!” he said airily, waving his hand. “You said that he was in danger, that he was kept against his will from coming. He is present now — let him speak.”
“She was right,” I said. “Ah, Nuflo, old man, you have lived long, and got much experience, but not insight — not that inner vision that sees further than the eyes.”
“No, not that — I know what you mean,” he answered. Then, tossing his hand towards the sky, he added: “The knowledge you speak of comes from there.”
The girl had been listening with keen interest, glancing from one to the other. “What!” she spoke suddenly. as if unable to keep silence, “do you think, grandfather, that she tells me — when there is danger — when the rain will cease — when the wind will blow — everything? Do I not ask and listen, lying awake at night? She is always silent, like the stars.”
Then, pointing to me with her finger, she finished:
“He knows so many things! Who tells them to him?”
“But distinguish, Rima. You do not distinguish the great from the little,” he answered loftily. “We know a thousand things, but they are things that any man with a forehead can learn. The knowledge that comes from the blue is not like that — it is more important and miraculous28. Is it not so, senor?” he ended, appealing to me.
“Is it, then, left for me to decide?” said I, addressing the girl.
But though her face was towards me, she refused to meet my look and was silent. Silent, but not satisfied: she doubted still, and had perhaps caught something in my tone that strengthened her doubt.
Old Nuflo understood the expression. “Look at me, Rima,” he said, drawing himself up. “I am old, and he is young — do I not know best? I have spoken and have decided29 it.”
Still that unconvinced expression, and her face turned expectant to me.
“Am I to decide?” I repeated.
“Who, then?” she said at last, her voice scarcely more than a murmur30; yet there was reproach in the tone, as if she had made a long speech and I had tyrannously driven her to it.
“Thus, then, I decide,” said I. “To each of us, as to every kind of animal, even to small birds and insects, and to every kind of plant, there is given something peculiar31 — a fragrance32, a melody, a special instinct, an art, a knowledge, which no other has. And to Rima has been given this quickness of mind and power to divine distant things; it is hers, just as swiftness and grace and changeful, brilliant colour are the hummingbird’s; therefore she need not that anyone dwelling33 in the blue should instruct her.”
The old man frowned and shook his head; while she, after one swift, shy glance at my face, and with something like a smile flitting over her delicate lips, turned and re-entered the house.
I felt convinced from that parting look that she had understood me, that my words had in some sort given her relief; for, strong as was her faith in the supernatural, she appeared as ready to escape from it, when a way of escape offered, as from the limp cotton gown and constrained34 manner worn in the house. The religion and cotton dress were evidently remains35 of her early training at the settlement of Voa.
Old Nuflo, strange to say, had proved better than his word. Instead of inventing new causes for delay, as I had imagined would be the case, he now informed me that his preparations for the journey were all but complete, that he had only waited for my return to set out.
Rima soon left us in her customary way, and then, talking by the fire, I gave an account of my detention36 by the Indians and of the loss of my revolver, which I thought very serious.
“You seem to think little of it,” I said, observing that he took it very coolly. “Yet I know not how I shall defend myself in case of an attack.”
“I have no fear of an attack,” he answered. “It seems to me the same thing whether you have a revolver or many revolvers and carbines and swords, or no revolver — no weapon at all. And for a very simple reason. While Rima is with us, so long as we are on her business, we are protected from above. The angels, senor, will watch over us by day and night. What need of weapons, then, except to procure37 food?”
“Why should not the angels provide us with food also?” said I.
“No, no, that is a different thing,” he returned. “That is a small and low thing, a necessity common to all creatures, which all know how to meet. You would not expect an angel to drive away a cloud of mosquitoes, or to remove a bush-tick from your person. No, sir, you may talk of natural gifts, and try to make Rima believe that she is what she is, and knows what she knows, because, like a humming-bird or some plants with a peculiar fragrance, she has been made so. It is wrong, senor, and, pardon me for saying it, it ill becomes you to put such fables38 into her head.”
I answered, with a smile: “She herself seems to doubt what you believe.”
“But, senor, what can you expect from an ignorant girl like Rima? She knows nothing, or very little, and will not listen to reason. If she would only remain quietly indoors, with her hair braided, and pray and read her Catechism, instead of running about after flowers and birds and butterflies and such unsubstantial things, it would be better for both of us.”
“In what way, old man?”
“Why, it is plain that if she would cultivate the acquaintance of the people that surround her — I mean those that come to her from her sainted mother — and are ready to do her bidding in everything, she could make it more safe for us in this place. For example, there is Runi and his people; why should they remain living so near us as to be a constant danger when a pestilence39 of small-pox or some other fever might easily be sent to kill them off?”
“And have you ever suggested such a thing to your grandchild?”
He looked surprised and grieved at the question. “Yes, many times, senor,” he said. “I should have been a poor Christian40 had I not mentioned it. But when I speak of it she gives me a look and is gone, and I see no more of her all day, and when I see her she refuses even to answer me — so perverse41, so foolish is she in her ignorance; for, as you can see for yourself, she has no more sense or concern about what is most important than some little painted fly that flits about all day long without any object.”
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1
allayed
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| v.减轻，缓和( allay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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parasitic
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| adj.寄生的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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projections
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| 预测( projection的名词复数 )； 投影； 投掷； 突起物 | |
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embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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piqued
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| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
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boisterously
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| adv.喧闹地，吵闹地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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detention
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| n.滞留，停留；拘留，扣留；(教育)留下 | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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fables
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| n.寓言( fable的名词复数 )；神话，传说 | |
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pestilence
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| n.瘟疫 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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