334 A BIRD OF ILL OMEN. 



pletely exhausted, hunger began to trouble me, and 

 once more I abandoned myself to terror and despair. 

 Soon, however, the very magnitude of my misfortune re- 

 stored me to myself. I wrestled against fate ; with all 

 my might I shouted and sang, that I might free my mind 

 from its enervating hallucinations. 



" No," I cried, " no, just Heaven ! I will not die of 

 misery and hunger; and since the cayeutes can live in this 

 frightful desert, I will learn to live like them. If needs 

 be, I will acquire the strength and suppleness of the pan- 

 ther, the foxhound's power of smell, the vulture's piercing 

 vision. I will become nimbler than the goat ; body to 

 body will I contend with the beast of prey. Die of 

 hunger 1 No, no, assuredly not ! Better would it be to 

 kindle a thousand fires in the prairie and reveal my pre- 

 sence to the Comanches, attract them hither, and 

 force them to save me out of pity, or put an end to my 

 wretched existence ! " 



I mounted the tree again, in the hope of discovering 

 some living creature, but it was fruitless ; my gaze sur- 

 veyed the whole horizon, to rest only upon distant 

 mountain-summits and a vast sweep of undulating plain. 



Then again I descended, and flung myself upon the 



For a long time I remained in this position, my head 

 on fire, my imagination filled with distressing ideas. 

 Suddenly a bird perched himself on the branch above my 

 head. By his black plumage and strong bill I knew him 

 to be a raven. What did he want 1 Had he come to an- 

 nounce the hour of my death ? 



" Away," I cried ; " away, accursed bird ! Away, I 

 shall not yet serve you for a meal." 



