“What a lovely creature a woman is! I can feel her soft, yielding body yet—her warm breath and sweet lips. No wonder I could not speak! Will her thought accuse me? And her dear, little hands!—I could crush them easily.”
Then, as if suspicion crossed his mind, he upbraided himself for ungentleness.
“Did my roughness hurt her? Did I frighten her by my suddenness?... So this is love!... And I not know how to express what I feel! Why has not Akaza taught me?... I see—I see—no one can teach another! I must learn for myself.... This is why the sages say it is like subtle poison. My blood is on fire! I do not know myself—my ugly self!” he added, as he arose and peered at his reflection in the mirrored wall.
Never before had he been dissatisfied with what he saw. It was his first realization of self-consciousness, and he was full of the humility of a master passion.
“Her hair fell here over my arm,” he continued, smiling tenderly. “I sense it yet. The perfume of it is sweet to my nostrils. Why did I not beg a lock for remembrance?”
He paced the floor restlessly.
“How unmanned and undone I am! Oh, my Kerœcia! Thy first kiss has enslaved me! I could not see the luster of thine eyes, but I could feel thy love. I can look into thy heart. Surely thou canst see that mine is filled with thy dear image.... I loved my mother, and Akaza, too ... but this is love of another kind!... If my mate should deny herself to me! No, no, no! I cannot live without her!... Poor Orondo! Poor soul!” he cried, in accents which revealed his great sympathy.
It was not until long after, that Yermah quit the chamber and finally sought rest.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“A BROTHERHOOD VOW BINDS THE SOUL!”
“Hold the burning feathers close under his nose,” directed the chief shaman, who had been hastily summoned to Iaqua, when Orondo was found in an unconscious condition early the following morning after his adventure with Yermah in the public gardens. “We will soon determine whether it is merely a fainting fit or of more serious import.”