Page:Iracéma, the honey-lips (1886).djvu/73
Camocim and Acaráu.[1] The strangers had hung their hammocks in the large cabin of the great Jacaúna. The brave Chief claimed for himself the pleasure of being the white warrior՚s host.
Poty abandoned his wigwam that he might accompany his brother of war to the cabin of his brother by blood, and to enjoy every moment that the sea-warrior could spare to devote to friendship from the love of Iraçéma.
Darkness had already left the face of the earth, but Martim saw that it had not left the face of his wife since the day of the combat.
"Sorrow lives in the soul of Iraçéma!"
"The wife՚s gladness can come only from her husband. When thy eyes leave Iraçéma՚s, tears fill them."
"Why weeps the daughter of the Tabajáras?"
"This is the Taba of the Pytiguáras, enemies of her people. The sight of Iraçéma still sees the skulls of her brothers staked round the Caiçára, her ears still listen to the death-song of the Tabajára captives, her hand still touches arms dyed with the blood of her fathers."
The bride placed her two hands on the warrior՚s shoulders and reclined upon his breast.
"Iraçéma will suffer all for her warrior and lord. The Atá fruit[2] is sweet and pleasant, but when bruised it sours. Thy wife would not that her love sour thy heart. She would fill it with the sweetness of honey."
"Let calm return to the breast of the daughter of the Tabajáras. She shall leave the Taba of her people՚s foes."
The Christian marched straight to the cabin of Jacaúna. The Great Chief was joyful on seeing his