All day the dark men of the tribe had been building a coffin into which the beautiful maiden was to be laid to rest.
One and all were bowed with sorrow; this death was to them a horrible unreality their simple minds could not grasp. Why was this creature of light cut down in her sweetest prime?
What would their lives now be without the glamour and mystery with which she had filled their wandering day?
The morning was bleak, and the rain fell in occasional showers that the wind swept, with moaning sighs, over the naked waste. The canvas of the tents flapped and creaked, straining against the poles and cords that held them in place.
A heavy gloom brooded over the wretched camp, so that even the squabbling children spoke with bated breath.
Within Stella's silent tent sat Eric of the golden locks, staring without tears upon the face of the dead. The eyes of his dream looked upon him no more; he had shut them for ever with the passion of his kiss. Beneath his living lips she had breathed her last, dying like a fading flower, scorched by the flame of his love!
He had not known when she had passed away—only the growing chill he had felt beneath his cheek had pierced his soul with a sudden fear, and when he had called on her beloved name no answer had come in response. But we shall draw a veil over that hour of morn when he realized what was to be his fate. There are times of darkness and bottomless grief wherein the eye of a stranger must never descend. This was the end—the end! Hope was dead, life was a waste, and all had been but a passionate dream that ended with a kiss!
The wind swept over the humble tent, but upon her lowly couch Stella still smiled the wise smile that removes the dead so far beyond the reach of those who weep.
Not far off sat Zorka, the witch, her head bent down upon her trembling knees, whilst the storm played amongst the frosted wisps of her hair. From all sides weird chants rose into the wintry air where the old women, sitting round their blazing fire, were singing dirges for the dead.
And now came the moment when the black-eyed, black-haired sons of the wild came to carry Stella to her last narrow bed.