When the birds fly south

by Stanton A. Coblentz

"Yasma," I murmured, myself overawed at her fierce transport. "Yasma, what is it?"

She turned to me with eyes that burned and sparkled as in the first ardor of our love. Her features were transfigured and glorified; it was as though she were yearning, straining upward toward something unspeakably lovely.

"I see the birds!" she cried, with a passion she had not shown for months. "I see the wild birds! They are calling, calling! Oh, I must join them! I must go where the flowers are! I must go, my beloved, I must go!"

"What are you saying, Yasma?" I burst forth, in a frenzy of terror. "Are you out of your senses? There are no birds near us now!"

She bent upon me a gaze in which her ecstasy seemed to be crossed by a fugitive tenderness. "Yes, there are, there are! I hear them! They call to me! But do not be sorry, my beloved. I will be happier, oh, so happy! The birds are calling me—I must follow them, follow them south—only"—here she hesitated just the fraction of a second—"only, this time I shall not return!"

"Oh, do not speak so strangely, Yasma!" I pleaded, half beside myself.

But she was already beyond reach of my appeals. "I see the birds! I see the wild birds!" she repeated, rising to a crescendo of exaltation. "I will fly with them, fly south, fly south! I will go where the sun always shines! I will go where all things are green and fair! Oh, I am going, I am going!"

Once more she turned passionately toward me; but her voice faltered, and a note of something wistful and gentle softened her fervid outburst. "Good-bye, my beloved—good-bye! I am going! It is the will—the will—of Yulada!"

At mention of that dread name, all power seemingly left her. Her thin form crumpled up and slumped down upon the disordered straw; for a moment a muffled gurgling filled her throat, and then she lay motionless where the firelight cast fantastic shadows.

With the fury of one scarcely conscious what he does, I bent down and lifted the silent figure in my arms. But she hung limp and unresponsive, and the open lips gave forth no sound, and the pulse no longer fluttered.