by W. H. Hudson
CHAPTER VI
Thinking about the forest girl while lying awake that night, I came tothe conclusion that I had made it sufficiently plain to her how littleher capricious behaviour had been relished, and had therefore no needto punish myself more by keeping any longer out of my beloved greenmansions. Accordingly, next day, after the heavy rain that fell duringthe morning hours had ceased, I set forth about noon to visit the wood.Overhead the sky was clear again; but there was no motion in the heavysultry atmosphere, while dark blue masses of banked-up clouds on thewestern horizon threatened a fresh downpour later in the day. My mindwas, however, now too greatly excited at the prospect of a possibleencounter with the forest nymph to allow me to pay any heed to theseominous signs.
I had passed through the first strip of wood and was in the succeedingstony sterile space when a gleam of brilliant colour close by on theground caught my sight. It was a snake lying on the bare earth; had Ikept on without noticing it, I should most probably have trodden uponor dangerously near it. Viewing it closely, I found that it was a coralsnake, famed as much for its beauty and singularity as for its deadlycharacter. It was about three feet long, and very slim; its groundcolour a brilliant vermilion, with broad jet-black rings at equaldistances round its body, each black ring or band divided by a narrowyellow strip in the middle. The symmetrical pattern and vividlycontrasted colours would have given it the appearance of an artificialsnake made by some fanciful artist, but for the gleam of life in itsbright coils. Its fixed eyes, too, were living gems, and from the pointof its dangerous arrowy head the glistening tongue flickered ceaselesslyas I stood a few yards away regarding it.
"I admire you greatly, Sir Serpent," I said, or thought, "but it isdangerous, say the military authorities, to leave an enemy or possibleenemy in the rear; the person who does such a thing must be either a badstrategist or a genius, and I am neither."
Retreating a few paces, I found and picked up a stone about as big asa man's hand and hurled it at the dangerous-looking head with theintention of crushing it; but the stone hit upon the rocky ground alittle on one side of the mark and, being soft, flew into a hundredsmall fragments. This roused the creature's anger, and in a moment withraised head he was gliding swiftly towards me. Again I retreated, notso slowly on this occasion and finding another stone, I raised andwas about to launch it when a sharp, ringing cry issued from the bushesgrowing near, and, quickly following the sound, forth stepped the forestgirl; no longer elusive and shy, vaguely seen in the shadowy wood, butboldly challenging attention, exposed to the full power of the meridiansun, which made her appear luminous and rich in colour beyond example.Seeing her thus, all those emotions of fear and abhorrence invariablyexcited in us by the sight of an active venomous serpent in our pathvanished instantly from my mind: I could now only feel astonishmentand admiration at the brilliant being as she advanced with swift, easy,undulating motion towards me; or rather towards the serpent, which wasnow between us, moving more and more slowly as she came nearer. Thecause of this sudden wonderful boldness, so unlike her former habit, wasunmistakable. She had been watching my approach from some hiding-placeamong the bushes, ready no doubt to lead me a dance through the woodwith her mocking voice, as on previous occasions, when my attack on theserpent caused that outburst of wrath. The torrent of ringing and tome inarticulate sounds in that unknown tongue, her rapid gestures, and,above all, her wide-open sparkling eyes and face aflame with colour madeit impossible to mistake the nature of her feeling.
In casting about for some term or figure of speech in which to describethe impression produced on me at that moment, I think of waspish, and,better still, avispada--literally the same word in Spanish, not havingprecisely the same meaning nor ever applied contemptuously--only toreject both after a moment's reflection. Yet I go back to the image ofan irritated wasp as perhaps offering the best illustration of somelarge tropical wasp advancing angrily towards me, as I have witnessed ahundred times, not exactly flying, but moving rapidly, half running andhalf flying, over the ground, with loud and angry buzz, the glisteningwings open and agitated; beautiful beyond most animated creatures inits sharp but graceful lines, polished surface, and varied brilliantcolouring, and that wrathfulness that fits it so well and seems to giveit additional lustre.
Wonder-struck at the sight of her strange beauty and passion, I forgotthe advancing snake until she came to a stop at about five yards fromme; then to my horror I saw that it was beside her naked feet. Althoughno longer advancing, the head was still raised high as if to strike;but presently the spirit of anger appeared to die out of it; the liftedhead, oscillating a little from side to side, sunk down lower and lowerto rest finally on the girl's bare instep; and lying there motionless,the deadly thing had the appearance of a gaily coloured silken garterjust dropped from her leg. It was plain to see that she had no fear ofit, that she was one of those exceptional persons, to be found, it issaid, in all countries, who possess some magnetic quality which has asoothing effect on even the most venomous and irritable reptiles.
Following the direction of my eyes, she too glanced down, but did notmove her foot; then she made her voice heard again, still loud andsharp, but the anger was not now so pronounced.
"Do not fear, I shall not harm it," I said in the Indian tongue.
She took no notice of my speech and continued speaking with increasingresentment.
I shook my head, replying that her language was unknown to me. Then bymeans of signs I tried to make her understand that the creature was safefrom further molestation. She pointed indignantly at the stone in myhand, which I had forgotten all about. At once I threw it from me, andinstantly there was a change; the resentment had vanished, and a tenderradiance lit her face like a smile.
I advanced a little nearer, addressing her once more in the Indiantongue; but my speech was evidently unintelligible to her, as she stoodnow glancing at the snake lying at her feet, now at me. Again I hadrecourse to signs and gestures; pointing to the snake, then to the stoneI had cast away, I endeavoured to convey to her that in the future Iwould for her sake be a friend to all venomous reptiles, and that Iwished her to have the same kindly feelings towards me as towards thesecreatures. Whether or not she understood me, she showed no dispositionto go into hiding again, and continued silently regarding me with a lookthat seemed to express pleasure at finding herself at last thus suddenlybrought face to face with me. Flattered at this, I gradually drew neareruntil at the last I was standing at her side, gazing down with theutmost delight into that face which so greatly surpassed in lovelinessall human faces I had ever seen or imagined.
And yet to you, my friend, it probably will not seem that she wasso beautiful, since I have, alas! only the words we all use to paintcommoner, coarser things, and no means to represent all the exquisitedetails, all the delicate lights, and shades, and swift changes ofcolour and expression. Moreover, is it not a fact that the strange orunheard of can never appear beautiful in a mere description, becausethat which is most novel in it attracts too much attention and is givenundue prominence in the picture, and we miss that which would have takenaway the effect of strangeness--the perfect balance of the parts andharmony of the whole? For instance, the blue eyes of the northernerwould, when first described to the black-eyed inhabitants of warmregions, seem unbeautiful and a monstrosity, because they would vividlysee with the mental vision that unheard-of blueness, but not in thesame vivid way the accompanying flesh and hair tints with which itharmonizes.
Think, then, less of the picture as I have to paint it in words than ofthe feeling its original inspired in me when, looking closely for thefirst time on that rare loveliness, trembling with delight, I mentallycried: "Oh, why has Nature, maker of so many types and of innumerableindividuals of each, given to the world but one being like this?"
Scarcely had the thought formed itself in my mind before I dismissed itas utterly incredible. No, this exquisite being was without doubt oneof a distinct race which had existed in this little-known corner of thecontinent for th
ousands of generations, albeit now perhaps reduced to asmall and dwindling remnant.
Her figure and features were singularly delicate, but it was her colourthat struck me most, which indeed made her differ from all other humanbeings. The colour of the skin would be almost impossible to describe,so greatly did it vary with every change of mood--and the moods weremany and transient--and with the angle on which the sunlight touched it,and the degree of light.
Beneath the trees, at a distance, it had seemed a somewhat dim whiteor pale grey; near in the strong sunshine it was not white, butalabastrian, semi-pellucid, showing an underlying rose colour; andat any point where the rays fell direct this colour was bright andluminous, as we see in our fingers when held before a strong firelight.But that part of her skin that remained in shadow appeared of a dimmerwhite, and the underlying colour varied from dim, rosy purple to dimblue. With the skin the colour of the eyes harmonized perfectly. Atfirst, when lit with anger, they had appeared flame-like; now the iriswas of a peculiar soft or dim and tender red, a shade sometimes seenin flowers. But only when looked closely at could this delicate hue bediscerned, the pupils being large, as in some grey eyes, and the long,dark, shading lashes at a short distance made the whole eye appear dark.Think not, then, of the red flower, exposed to the light and sun inconjunction with the vivid green of the foliage; think only of sucha hue in the half-hidden iris, brilliant and moist with the eye'smoisture, deep with the eye's depth, glorified by the outward look ofa bright, beautiful soul. Most variable of all in colour was the hair,this being due to its extreme fineness and glossiness, and to itselasticity, which made it lie fleecy and loose on head, shoulders, andback; a cloud with a brightness on its surface made by the freer outerhairs, a fit setting and crown for a countenance of such rare changefulloveliness. In the shade, viewed closely, the general colour appeared aslate, deepening in places to purple; but even in the shade the nimbusof free flossy hairs half veiled the darker tints with a downy pallor;and at a distance of a few yards it gave the whole hair a vague, mistyappearance. In the sunlight the colour varied more, looking now dark,sometimes intensely black, now of a light uncertain hue, with a play ofiridescent colour on the loose surface, as we see on the glossed plumageof some birds; and at a short distance, with the sun shining full on herhead, it sometimes looked white as a noonday cloud. So changeful was itand ethereal in appearance with its cloud colours that all other humanhair, even of the most beautiful golden shades, pale or red, seemedheavy and dull and dead-looking by comparison.
But more than form and colour and that enchanting variability was thelook of intelligence, which at the same time seemed complementary to andone with the all-seeing, all-hearing alertness appearing in her face;the alertness one remarks in a wild creature, even when in repose andfearing nothing; but seldom in man, never perhaps in intellectual orstudious man. She was a wild, solitary girl of the woods, and did notunderstand the language of the country in which I had addressed her.What inner or mind life could such a one have more than that of any wildanimal existing in the same conditions? Yet looking at her face itwas not possible to doubt its intelligence. This union in her of twoopposite qualities, which, with us, cannot or do not exist together,although so novel, yet struck me as the girl's principal charm. Why hadNature not done this before--why in all others does the brightness ofthe mind dim that beautiful physical brightness which the wild animalshave? But enough for me that that which no man had ever looked for orhoped to find existed here; that through that unfamiliar lustre of thewild life shone the spiritualizing light of mind that made us kin.
These thoughts passed swiftly through my brain as I stood feasting mysight on her bright, piquant face; while she on her part gazed backinto my eyes, not only with fearless curiosity, but with a look ofrecognition and pleasure at the encounter so unmistakably friendly that,encouraged by it, I took her arm in my hand, moving at the same time alittle nearer to her. At that moment a swift, startled expression cameinto her eyes; she glanced down and up again into my face; her lipstrembled and slightly parted as she murmured some sorrowful sounds in atone so low as to be only just audible.
Thinking she had become alarmed and was on the point of escaping out ofmy hands, and fearing, above all things, to lose sight of her again sosoon, I slipped my arm around her slender body to detain her, movingone foot at the same time to balance myself; and at that moment I felta slight blow and a sharp burning sensation shoot into my leg, so suddenand intense that I dropped my arm, at the same time uttering a cry ofpain, and recoiled one or two paces from her. But she stirred not whenI released her; her eyes followed my movements; then she glanced down ather feet. I followed her look, and figure to yourself my horror when Isaw there the serpent I had so completely forgotten, and which even thatsting of sharp pain had not brought back to remembrance! There it lay,a coil of its own thrown round one of her ankles, and its head, raisednearly a foot high, swaying slowly from side to side, while the swiftforked tongue flickered continuously. Then--only then--I knew what hadhappened, and at the same time I understood the reason of that suddenlook of alarm in her face, the murmuring sounds she had uttered, and thedownward startled glance. Her fears had been solely for my safety, andshe had warned me! Too late! too late! In moving I had trodden on ortouched the serpent with my foot, and it had bitten me just above theankle. In a few moments I began to realize the horror of my position."Must I die! must I die! Oh, my God, is there nothing that can save me?"I cried in my heart.
She was still standing motionless in the same place: her eyes wanderedback from me to the snake; gradually its swaying head was lowered again,and the coil unwound from her ankle; then it began to move away, slowlyat first, and with the head a little raised, then faster, and in the endit glided out of sight. Gone!--but it had left its venom in my blood--Ocursed reptile!
Back from watching its retreat, my eyes returned to her face, nowstrangely clouded with trouble; her eyes dropped before mine, while thepalms of her hands were pressed together, and the fingers clasped andunclasped alternately. How different she seemed now; the brilliant facegrown so pallid and vague-looking! But not only because this tragic endto our meeting had pierced her with pain: that cloud in the west hadgrown up and now covered half the sky with vast lurid masses of vapour,blotting out the sun, and a great gloom had fallen on the earth.
That sudden twilight and a long roll of approaching thunder,reverberating from the hills, increased my anguish and desperation.Death at that moment looked unutterably terrible. The remembrance of allthat made life dear pierced me to the core--all that nature was to me,all the pleasures of sense and intellect, the hopes I had cherished--allwas revealed to me as by a flash of lightning. Bitterest of all was thethought that I must now bid everlasting farewell to this beautiful beingI had found in the solitude--this lustrous daughter of the Didi--justwhen I had won her from her shyness--that I must go away into the cursedblackness of death and never know the mystery of her life! It wasthat which utterly unnerved me, and made my legs tremble under me, andbrought great drops of sweat to my forehead, until I thought that thevenom was already doing its swift, fatal work in my veins.
With uncertain steps I moved to a stone a yard or two away and sat downupon it. As I did so the hope came to me that this girl, so intimatewith nature, might know of some antidote to save me. Touching my leg,and using other signs, I addressed her again in the Indian language.
"The snake has bitten me," I said. "What shall I do? Is there no leaf,no root you know that would save me from death? Help me! help me!" Icried in despair.
My signs she probably understood if not my words, but she made no reply;and still she remained standing motionless, twisting and untwisting herfingers, and regarding me with a look of ineffable grief and compassion.
Alas! It was vain to appeal to her: she knew what had happened, and whatthe result would most likely be, and pitied, but was powerless to helpme. Then it occurred to me that if I could reach the Indian villagebefore the venom overpowered me something might be done to sa
ve me. Oh,why had I tarried so long, losing so many precious minutes! Large dropsof rain were falling now, and the gloom was deeper, and the thunderalmost continuous. With a cry of anguish I started to my feet andwas about to rush away towards the village when a dazzling flash oflightning made me pause for a moment. When it vanished I turned a lastlook on the girl, and her face was deathly pale, and her hair lookedblacker than night; and as she looked she stretched out her arms towardsme and uttered a low, wailing cry. "Good-bye for ever!" I murmured, andturning once more from her, rushed away like one crazed into the wood.But in my confusion I had probably taken the wrong direction, forinstead of coming out in a few minutes into the open border of theforest, and on to the savannah, I found myself every moment gettingdeeper among the trees. I stood still, perplexed, but could not shakeoff the conviction that I had started in the right direction. EventuallyI resolved to keep on for a hundred yards or so and then, if no openingappeared, to turn back and retrace my steps. But this was no easymatter. I soon became entangled in a dense undergrowth, which soconfused me that at last I confessed despairingly to myself that forthe first time in this wood I was hopelessly lost. And in what terriblecircumstances! At intervals a flash of lightning would throw a vividblue glare down into the interior of the wood and only serve to showthat I had lost myself in a place where even at noon in cloudlessweather progress would be most difficult; and now the light would onlylast a moment, to be followed by thick gloom; and I could only tearblindly on, bruising and lacerating my flesh at every step, fallingagain and again, only to struggle up and on again, now high above thesurface, climbing over prostrate trees and branches, now plunged to mymiddle in a pool or torrent of water.
Hopeless--utterly hopeless seemed all my mad efforts; and at each pause,when I would stand exhausted, gasping for breath, my throbbing heartalmost suffocating me, a dull, continuous, teasing pain in my bitten legserved to remind me that I had but a little time left to exist--that bydelaying at first I had allowed my only chance of salvation to slip by.
How long a time I spent fighting my way through this dense black wood Iknow not; perhaps two or three hours, only to me the hours seemed likeyears of prolonged agony. At last, all at once, I found that I was freeof the close undergrowth and walking on level ground; but it was darkerhere darker than the darkest night; and at length, when the lightningcame and flared down through the dense roof of foliage overhead, Idiscovered that I was in a spot that had a strange look, where the treeswere very large and grew wide apart, and with no undergrowth to impedeprogress beneath them. Here, recovering breath, I began to run, andafter a while found that I had left the large trees behind me, and wasnow in a more open place, with small trees and bushes; and this made mehope for a while that I had at last reached the border of the forest.But the hope proved vain; once more I had to force my way through denseundergrowth, and finally emerged on to a slope where it was open, andI could once more see for some distance around me by such light ascame through the thick pall of clouds. Trudging on to the summit ofthe slope, I saw that there was open savannah country beyond, and for amoment rejoiced that I had got free from the forest. A few steps more,and I was standing on the very edge of a bank, a precipice not less thanfifty feet deep. I had never seen that bank before, and therefore knewthat I could not be on the right side of the forest. But now my onlyhope was to get completely away from the trees and then to look for thevillage, and I began following the bank in search of a descent. No breakoccurred, and presently I was stopped by a dense thicket of bushes. Iwas about to retrace my steps when I noticed that a tall slender treegrowing at the foot of the precipice, its green top not more thana couple of yards below my feet, seemed to offer a means of escape.Nerving myself with the thought that if I got crushed by the fall Ishould probably escape a lingering and far more painful death, I droppedinto the cloud of foliage beneath me and clutched desperately at thetwigs as I fell. For a moment I felt myself sustained; but branch afterbranch gave way beneath my weight, and then I only remember, very dimly,a swift flight through the air before losing consciousness.