"The day ends sadly,"[1] quoth Cauby. "The night-shade is already falling. It is time to depart."
The virgin laid her hand gently on the hammock of Araken.
"He goes," murmured her trembling lips.
The Pagé stood upright in the midst of the wigwam and lit his Calumet. He and the youth exchanged the pipe of farewell.
"Well-go[2] the Guest, even as he was welcome to the wigwam of Araken."
The old man walked to the door and puffed forth a cloud of smoke upon the wind. When it had dispersed in thin air he said—
"May the Jurupary[3] hide himself, and allow the guest of the Pagé to pass unmolested."
Araken returned to his hammock and slept again.
The youth took his arms, which seemed to be heavier than when he had first hung them to the stakes round the wigwam, and prepared to depart.
First went Cauby; at some little distance followed the stranger, and directly after him Iraçéma.
They descended the hill and entered the dark forest. Already the Sabiá of the wold, sweetest songster of eventide, deep hidden in the thick myrtle-brake,[4] warbled the prelude of her plaintive song.
The virgin sighed forth—
"The evening is the Sorrow of the Sun. The days of Iraçéma will be long evenings without a morn, until the Shadow of the Great Night shall fall upon her."
- ↑ O dia vae ficar triste. The Tupys called evening Caruca, a word composed of "Che carac acy," "I am sad." They drew their image of grief from the twilight and the approaching gloom.
- ↑ In Portuguese they can say, "Well-gone be the guest as his welcoming;" but we have no single English word as a pendant to welcome.
- ↑ Jurupary, a demon, which word literally means "crooked mouth" (juru, a mouth, and apara, crooked, deformed).
- ↑ In the original Ubaia, a myrtle with a healthy wholesome fruit (uba, a fruit, and aia, good).
