|
pt too strict a rule, too sharp an oversight
for that,--but to impress upon her mind the exact locality of the
streets and tents which might afford a hiding-place near the gate where
she might await, close at hand, the most favorable moment.
She had soon chosen for this purpose a towering heap of beams, gabions,
and boards piled one above another, which had not been used in building
the camp and had been left here: it rose high above her head, and when
behind it, she was concealed from the view of those at the gate or in
the street between the tents. But she never lingered long at the spot,
lest she might arouse suspicion.
Bissula sought from preference the opposite side of the camp, facing
the north, where the lofty pine-tree of the earth-goddess rose beside
the broad sacrificial stones of the altar, spreading out its mighty
branches, and from above the wall the eye could rove freely over the
forests to the distant peaks where, veiled by mists, the Holy Mountain
towered. Her thoughts always flew thither, not to the eastern marshes,
not to Suomar. She was often anxious about her grandmother, but Zercho
had certainly concealed her; and now that "the obstinate redhead" could
no longer say no, probably on the Holy Mountain.
"Therefore"--this was the excuse she willingly made to
herself--"_therefore_ I cannot help thinking constantly of the Holy
Mountain, Oh no! That isn't true. It is not for my grandmother's sake.
Adalo, Adalo, help!"
So she had called aloud the evening after the refusal to set her at
liberty, perched high among the branches of the pine-tree into which
she liked to climb to dream alone, and at the same moment stretched her
beautiful arms, with a gesture of longing entreaty, toward the
northwest, where lightning was flashing over the mountain peaks.
On the evening after the inspection (it was the day of the assembly on
the Holy Mountain) she walked through the streets of the camp, thinking
and dreaming of her liberation, also of her liberator. She had tied
faithful Bruna firmly to the poles of her tent; for there had
repeatedly been serious trouble when she took the animal with her: boys
belonging to the camp followers pelted her with stones, from safe
hiding-places, till she was greatly infuriated.
To Ausonius's nephew, especially, the bear showed intense antipathy,
rising on her hind legs and growling furiously whenever she saw him,
though he anxiously kept out of her way and never teased her.
|