The sun lingered for a while amongst the light tracery of
the higher branches, as if in friendly reluctance to abandon the body
stretched in the green paddy-field. Then Dain, revived by the cool of
the evening breeze, sat up and stared round him. As he did so the sun
dipped sharply, as if ashamed of being detected in a sympathising
attitude, and the clearing, which during the day was all light, became
suddenly all darkness, where the fire gleamed like an eye. Dain walked
slowly towards the creek, and, divesting himself of his torn sarong, his
only garment, entered the water cautiously. He had had nothing to eat
that day, and had not dared show himself in daylight by the water-side to
drink. Now, as he swam silently, he swallowed a few mouthfuls of water
that lapped about his lips. This did him good, and he walked with
greater confidence in himself and others as he returned towards the fire.
Had he been betrayed by Lakamba all would have been over by this. He
made up a big blaze, and while it lasted dried himself, and then lay down
by the embers. He could not sleep, but he felt a great numbness in all
his limbs. His restlessness was gone, and he was content to lay still,
measuring the time by watching the stars that rose in endless succession
above the forests, while the slight puffs of wind under the cloudless sky
seemed to fan their twinkle into a greater brightness.
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