<h2> CHAPTER IX </h2>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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."</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>"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!"</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>"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—"</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"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—"</p>
<p>"All that I understand," I broke in again. "But her origin, her history—that
is what I wish to hear."</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"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.</p>
<p>"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!"</p>
<p>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."</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>He glanced at me in his usual quick, cunning way.</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
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