Page:Iracéma, the honey-lips (1886).djvu/30

The virgin was the first to speak.

"Gladness shall soon return to the heart of the pale-faced warrior, because Iraçéma wishes that before nightfall he may see the bride who expects him."

Martim smiled at the young girl՚s artless wish.

"Come!" said the virgin.

They crossed the forest and descended into the valley. The wood was thick on the hill-skirts; a dense dome of dark-green foliage protected the sylvan shrine dedicated to the mysteries of barbarous rites.

This was the sacred wood of the Juréma. Around stood the rugged trunks of the Tupan tree; from the boughs, hidden by thick greenery, hung the sacrificial vases; ashes of the extinct fire, which had been used for the feast of the last new moon, still strewed the ground.

Before entering this place of mystery, the virgin, who was leading the warrior by the hand, hesitated, and applied her subtle ear to the sighings of the breeze. Each slight noise of the forest had a meaning for the wild daughter of the desert. However, there was nothing suspicious in the deep respiration of the forest.

Iraçéma signed to the stranger to wait and be silent, whilst she disappeared in the thickest of the wood. The sun still hung over the mountain ridge, and night began to shroud the solitary spot.

When the virgin returned, she brought in a leaf some drops of an unknown green liquor, poured from an Igaçába, which she had taken out of the ground. She presented the rude bowl to the warrior.

"Drink!"

Martim felt a sleep like death take possession of his eyes; but soon his soul seemed full of light, and strength exhilarated his heart. He lived over again days better and happier than any that he had ever known. He enjoyed the reality of his brightest hopes.