THE DAUGHTER OF THE SUN At first my dimmed eyes beheld her through a mist, my hands shaking as if stricken by palsy, nor did I retain sufficient strength of body to uplift myself from the spot where I had fallen with the force of my blow.

Nevertheless I shall forever retain the vivid picture imprinted on memory.

Before us stood a tall, fair-skinned woman, having dignity of command in every movement, her face thin, strong, dominant, with large, dark, passionate eyes, flashing in scornful beauty over the excited warriors at her feet.

Pride, power, imperious will, a scarcely hidden tigerish cruelty, were in every line of her features; yet she remained strikingly handsome, with that rare beauty which drives men mad and laughs mockingly at its victims.

She was robed completely in red, the brilliant color harmonizing strangely with her countenance, the single outer garment extending, devoid of ornament, from throat to heel, loosely gathered at the waist, and resembling in form and drapery those pictures I have seen of Roman togas, while her magnificent wealth of hair, of richest reddish gold, appeared to shimmer and glow in the sparkle of leaping flames as if she wore a tiara of rubies.
With quick, passionate speech she poured forth her purpose, and I saw the savage throng shrink before her, as if they knew and dreaded the outburst of her anger.