d straight into that sea of flame below! How cruel imagination
was to turn that desolate ash-heap, in spite of feathery foliage and
embroidery of creepers, into roaring leaping flames again--to bring
those dead savages back, men, women, and children--even the little ones
I had played with--to set them yelling around me: "Burn! burn!" Oh, no,
this damnable spot must not be her last resting-place! If the fire
had not utterly consumed her, bones as well as sweet tender flesh,
shrivelling her like a frail white-winged moth into the finest white
ashes, mixed inseparably with the ashes of stems and leaves innumerable,
then whatever remained of her must be conveyed elsewhere to be with me,
to mingle with my ashes at last.

Having resolved to sift and examine the entire heap, I at once set about
my task. If she had climbed into the central highest branch, and had
fallen straight, then she would have dropped into the flames not far
from the roots; and so to begin I made a path to the trunk, and when
darkness overtook me I had worked all round the tree, in a width of
three to four yards, without discovering any remains. At noon on the
following day I found the skeleton, or, at all events, the larger bones,
rendered so fragile by the fierce heat they had been subjected to, that
they fell to pieces when handled. But I was careful--how careful!--to
save these last sacred relics, all that was now left of Rima!--kissing
each white fragment as I lifted it, and gathering them all in my old
frayed cloak, spread out to receive them. And when I had recovered them
all, even to the smallest, I took my treasure home.

Another storm had shaken my soul, and had been succeeded by a second
calm, which was more complete and promised to be more enduring than the
first. But it was no lethargic calm; my brain was more active than ever;
and by and by it found a work for my hands to do, of such a character
as to distinguish me from all other forest hermits, fugitives from their
fellows, in that savage land. The calcined bones I had rescued were kept
in one of the big, rudely shaped, half-burnt earthen jars which Nuflo
had used for storing grain and other food-stuff. It was of a wood-ash
colour; and after I had given up my search for the peculiar fine clay he
had used in its manufacture--for it had been in my mind to make a more
shapely funeral urn myself--I set to work to ornament its surface. A
portion of each day was given to this artistic labour; an