With uncertain steps I moved to a stone a yard or two away and
sat down upon it. As I did so the hope came to me that this
girl, so intimate with 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!" I cried 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 her fingers, 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 what the result would most likely be, and pitied, but was
powerless to help me. Then it occurred to me that if I could
reach the Indian village before the venom overpowered me
something might be done to save me. Oh, why had I tarried so
long, losing so many precious minutes! Large drops of rain were
falling now, and the gloom was deeper, and the thunder almost
continuous. With a cry of anguish I started to my feet and was
about to rush away towards the village when a dazzling flash of
lightning made me pause for a moment. When it vanished I turned
a last look on the girl, and her face was deathly pale, and her
hair looked blacker than night; and as she looked she stretched
out her arms towards me and uttered a low, wailing cry.
"Good-bye for ever!" I murmured, and turning once more from her,