Here he reclined after his midday lunch, gazing out upon a
sky so blue that it seemed a sea washing the invisible shores of
heaven, and dreaming of as many things as usually occupy the fancy of
a young man on an idle June day. But one event of which he did not
dream was rapidly approaching. A wild bird more brilliant and
beautiful than any he had so patiently waited for with his gun was
preparing to fall at his feet. Just above his head the Algonquin
maiden, Wanda, who like himself had strayed far from home, was
reposing warm and wearied in utter unconsciousness of the proximity of
any human being. The shining waters of the lake beneath her gave her a
sudden charming inspiration. Springing up with the alertness of one
upon whom fatigue lies as lightly as dew upon the sward, she swiftly
disrobed, and remained a moment graceful as a young maple in autumn,
standing in beautiful undress, its delicate limbs bare of leaves, and
all its light raiment fallen in a many coloured heap to the ground.
In the natural _abandon_ of the situation, Wanda neared the edge of
the overhanging cliff, and sprang far out into the water.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93