While we were still eating the fruit, the lady of my vision set her companion to work to partially flay the oribe which her dogs had killed, and busied herself in making a fire of fallen boughs.

As soon as it burned brightly she took strips of the oribe flesh, toasted them, and gave them to us on leaves.

We ate, and now were allowed a little more water.

After that she took Tota to the spring and washed her, which she sadly needed, poor child! Next came our turn to wash, and oh, the joy of it! I came back to the tree, walking painfully, indeed, but a changed man.
There sat the beautiful girl with Tota on her knees.

She was lulling her to sleep, and held up her finger to me enjoining silence.