I kept steadily on my way, my head bent, thinking of old England and wondering if I would ever see it again. The grass was green and fresh there, the spring flowers were beginning to bloom, and in the fields the sod lay upturned to the sun. The fresh scent of the turf struck my nostrils. Ah, this was England! It held naught for me, perhaps only scorn and hatred; still my heart yearned for the Old Country like that of the exile condemned to some prison, far from his home. It was where my eyes had first beheld the light, and it was there, when I finished my weary journey and life's brief sorrows were over, that I wished to rest quietly beneath its green turf, where naught of the world's turmoil and strife could reach; safe from all harm, with only the silent stars to shine down upon me, I would sleep with my fathers.

I was coming into the group of bark huts; only one old woman was visible, her form bent nearly double with age, her hair snow white, her eyes sunken, her face weather-beaten as though by many a storm. Crouched by one of the low entrances she sat, her eyes fixed upon me. There was that look of knowledge, of understanding, in them, which comes only with extreme age; the look of one who has tasted of all life's secrets, and who has known all that it contains.

I paused beside her, struck by the look of withered age upon her face, and by her snow-white hair; for I had never seen a native with white hair before.

"What is thy age, old crone?" I asked her, in the native tongue.

She did not stir, only her sunken eyes were fixed upon my face, and then, in a voice cracked and broken, she replied:

"Neulta has seen the suns of one hundred and four summers, and still she remains; those whom she knew in her youth have long since gone from among her people."

One hundred and four years old! She was mad; but still she was extremely old, her face showed that.

I knew the name too; often when the servants at the mansion had lost aught, or anything had mysteriously disappeared, they would go to Neulta, and she would tell them where to find the missing article. Strange to say, when they had looked where she directed, they would always discover the missing thing.

Wonderful stories were told of her superhuman powers by the natives. It was said that DeNortier always consulted her before embarking on his voyages; that she had foretold to Herrick, months before, that he would meet death by the hand of a tall stranger, alone in a cavern; he had laughed at her, but lo! it had been even as she had said. The Indians swore by Neulta, and regarded her as a goddess.

I had scoffed at the tales told me by the dead José and the other servants; had told them that the old hag had stolen the things herself, and did but tell them where they were hidden that she might increase their faith in her, but I could never persuade them that I spoke truth. Some thought of the idle tales crossed my mind as she told me her age.