Page:The Downfall of the Gods (1911).pdf/34

 The horror of this thought, and of the recollection of his mother's face distorted by a passionate despair, as of some wild beast brought to bay, shook him with a fresh tremor; and seizing his head between his hands, and resting his elbows on his knees, he broke into a renewed burst of sobs.

The moat was at his feet, and his face was bent above it; and as he stared downward at his reflection mirrored there, by the still water, a fateful secret was revealed.

The afternoon was waning, and the jungle was beginning to stir in the heavy sleep in which, during all the long, hot hours of the day it had been lapped. It was as though, with faint rustlings, the warm earth was stretching its limbs, very languidly, ere it awoke. Somewhere, far off, a woodpecker was tapping. From homing bees, their hives high in the tree-tops, there came a droning hum that was like a delicate background to the forest silence. A flock of paroquets burst out of the woodland, circled, flashing like a kaleidoscope above the moat, and instantly was gone. A big blue kingfisher flew headlong down the bank, sounding his discordant note. In the forest close at hand arose for a moment a little flirt of feathers, and a cicada overhead broke abruptly into his strident love-song. Then once more the hush fell heavily; and through the silence, the water, lapping about the feet of the sacred places, whispered to the gazing boy its tremendous revelation.