Page:Max Havelaar Or The Coffee Sales of the Netherlands Trading Company Siebenhaar.djvu/276

 however much his eyes or his thoughts might wander around, every time his glance and his longing returned to the path that leads from Badoor to the ketapan. All that his senses became aware of bore the name Adinda. He saw the precipice on the left, where the earth is so yellow, and where once a young buffalo sank into the depth; there the villagers had come together to remove the animal—for it is no small matter to lose a young buffalo—and they had let each other down by strong rattan cords. Adinda’s father had been bravest Oh, how she had clapped her hands, Adinda!

And yonder, on the other side, where the small clump of coco-palms waves above the huts of the village, somewhere there Si-oonah had fallen out of a tree and died. How his mother had cried: “Because Si-oonah was still so small,” she wailed as though she would have been less grieved if Si-oonah had been bigger! But it is true that he small, for he was smaller and weaker even than Adinda.

No one came along the little road that led from Badoor to the tree. Presently she would come: Oh, certainly it was still so early!

Saïdyah saw a badying hopping to and fro with sportive nimbleness about the stem of a klappa-tree. The little creature—the vexation of the owner of the tree, yet so charming in its appearance and movements—clambered up and down indefatigably. Saïdyah saw it and forced himself to keep looking at it, because this gave some rest to his thoughts after the strenuous labour they had been engaged in since sunrise rest from the exhausting strain of waiting. Anon his impressions took the form of words, and he sang what was passing in his soul. I would sooner his song to you in Malay, this Italian of the East, but here is the translation: