"'I do not fear your torments! For I am brave! I defy you, for you are all weaker than women. My father, Outalissi, has drunk from the skulls of your bravest warriors. Burn me! Torture me! But you will not make me groan; you will not make me sigh.'
"Angered by my song, a Creek warrior stabbed me in the arm. 'Thank you,' I said.
"To make sure that I should not again escape, they bound cords around my neck and feet and arms; the ends of these cords were fastened in the earth by means of pegs, and a band of warriors set to watch over me laid down on the cords, so that I could not make a single movement of which they were not aware. The songs and dances gradually ceased as night came on, and the camp fires burnt low and red, and, in spite of my pain, I, too, fell asleep. I dreamt that someone was setting me free, and I seemed to feel that sharp anguish which shoots along the nerves when ropes, which are bound so tightly as to stop the flow of blood, are suddenly cut from the numbed limbs. The pain became so keen that it made me open my eyes. A tall, white figure was bending over me, silently cutting my cords. It was Atala. I rose up and followed her through the sleeping camp.
"When we were out of ear-shot she told me that she had bribed the medicine man of her tribe, and brought some barrels of fire-water into the camp and made all the warriors drunk with it. Drunkenness, no doubt, prevented the Creeks from following us for a day or two. And if afterwards they pursued us, they probably turned to the west, thinking that we had set out in the direction of the country of Natchez. But we had gone north, tracking our way by the moss growing on the trunks of the trees."
II.--The Magic of the Forest
"The Creeks had stripped me almost naked, but Atala made me a dress out of the inner bark of the ash-tree and sewed some rat-skins into moccasins. I, in turn, wove garlands of flowers for her head as we tramped along through the great forests of Florida. Oh, how wildly beautiful the scenes were through which we passed. Nearly all the trees in Florida are covered with a white moss which hangs from their branches to the ground. At night-time, when the moonlight falls, pearly grey, on the indeterminate crest of the forests, the trees look like an army of phantoms in long, trailing veils. In the daytime a crowd of large, beautiful butterflies, brilliant humming birds, and blue-winged jays and parroquets come and cling to the moss, which then resembles a white tapestry embroidered with splendid and varied hues.
"Every evening we made a great fire and built a shelter out of a large hollow piece of bark, fixed on four stakes. The forests were full of game, which I easily brought down with the bow and arrows I took when we fled from the camp, and as it was now autumn, the forests were hung with fruit. Every day I became more and more joyful, but Atala was strangely quiet. Sometimes, as I suddenly turned my head to see why she was so silent, I would find her gazing at me, her eyes burning with passion. Sometimes she would kneel down, and clasp her hands in prayer and weep like a woman with a broken heart. What frightened me above all was the secret thought that she tried to conceal in the depths of her soul, but, now and then, half revealed in her wild, sorrowful, and lovely eyes. Oh, how many times did she tell me:
"'Yes, I love you, Chactas, I love you! But I can never be your wife!'
"I could not understand her. One minute she would cling round my neck and kiss me; another, when I wished in turn to caress her, she would repulse me.
"'But as I intend, Atala, to become a Christian, what is there to prevent us marrying?' I said, again and again.