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Hudson, W. H. (William Henry), 1841-1922

"Green Mansions: a romance of the tropical forest"


Among the bushes not far from the cave's mouth a small bird had
broken out in song, a clear, tender melody soon taken up by other
birds further away.
"It will soon be morning," she said, and then clasped her arms
about me once more and held me in a long, passionate embrace;
then slipping away from my arms and with one swift glance at the
sleeping old man, passed out of the cave.
For a few moments I remained sitting, not yet realizing that she
had left me, so suddenly and swiftly had she passed from my arms
and my sight; then, recovering my faculties, I started up and
rushed out in hopes of overtaking her.
It was not yet dawn, but there was still some light from the full
moon, now somewhere behind the mountains. Running to the verge
of the bushgrown plateau, I explored the rocky slope beneath
without seeing her form, and then called: "Rima! Rima!"
A soft, warbling sound, uttered by no bird, came up from the
shadowy bushes far below; and in that direction I ran on; then
pausing, called again. The sweet sound was repeated once more,
but much lower down now, and so faintly that I scarcely heard it.


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