After a while he found refreshment. In the dense undergrowth were bushes and trees bearing fruits; and many of these were at their ripening season. Mangoes and custard apples there were in plenty, and tamarinds and a few bananas. He was also presented with a cocoanut, delivered by an interested monkey, who first flung it at him, and then came hurrying to the ground to see what had happened. The incident proved unfortunate, however. The suggestion of fellowship about the little, bright-eyed thing, unnerved Oman for the space of a second. In that second he was undone. The door opened to the woman. Tears flooded his eyes, and, throwing himself upon the ground, he yielded to an outburst of the wildest grief. The monkey, who had seated himself near at hand, scratching his black head and chattering volubly to the stranger, now looked on sorrowfully, and shed a few tears himself:—wherefore, who can say? After a time, when Oman had recovered again, the grotesque little creature broke the cocoanut against the tree trunk, and solemnly offered half of it to his new friend. There in the jungle they ate together; and presently, when the monkey had run off to rejoin his tribe, Oman rose and moved on, comforted and fortified. The incident had turned his thoughts away from himself; and the afternoon passed rapidly. At nightfall he halted once more, near the summit of a hill, ate again of the fruits of Mother Earth, and lay down in the solemn stillness, not to sleep very readily this time. Physically, he was very tired. Mentally, he was waking. He must now—alas!—begin to weigh his loss, and face the future. His thoughts travelled back through the few intervening months to the spring, when he had wandered southward with Hushka. Then he reviewed the early part of the Vassa, and began to see how his life had broadened before him. There had taken place his first struggles against himself; and there could be marked his first victories. He recalled to mind passages of the Dharma, which he had loved to think were made for him alone. And, with this memory, the bitterness became intolerable. He lifted his arms toward the stars and wailed his woe. And passively the stars shone on, nor heeded him. The parts of nature, so imperturbable, so enduring, so changeless,—were they satisfied? Had they received enough of God? Oh, surely, yes! On all save him had the Creator showered blessings, to all given gifts and mercies. He, only, was marked out for constant woe, constant disappointment, constant misery. Having thus grieved through long hours, the outcast finally closed his eyes upon his first day of probation, and once more slept.