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and all next day her agile fingers wove a beautiful cage of straw, which she lined with the soft wool of the Monguba,[1] to receive her companion and friend.
On the following dawn the voice of the Jandáia awoke her. The beautiful bird left its mistress no more, either because it could never weary of seeing her after so long an absence, or because instinct told it that she needed a companion in her sad solitude.
CHAPTER XXVII.
One evening Iraçéma saw from afar two warriors advancing on the sea-beach. Her heart beat more quickly.
An instant afterwards, she forgot in the arms of her husband the many days of yearning and desolation which she had passed in the solitary Wigwam.
Again her graces and endearments filled the eyes of the Christian, and gladness once more dwelt in his soul.
Like the dry plain, which, when the thick fog comes, grows green again and is spangled with flowers, so the beautiful daughter of the forest revived at the return of her husband, and her beauty was adorned with soft and tender smiles.
Martim and his brother had arrived at the Taba of Jacaúna as the Inúbia was sounding. They led Poty՚s thousand bowmen to the combat. Again the Tabajáras, in spite of the alliance with the white Tapuias of the Mearim, were overcome by the brave Pytiguáras.
Never had such an obstinate fight been fought,
- ↑ Monguba, a tree with its fruit full of downy cotton, like that of the Sumaúma, only black, which gives its name to part of the Serra of Maranguape.