"Oh, let's forget Yulada--forget everything! Forget everything but you and me! Nothing, nothing else can matter! I have you, and that is all I want. That is all I ever want! Oh, stay with me, stay with me, my beloved, and I do not care what Yulada may do--no, I do not care what may happen in the whole world!" Her words ended in another sobbing crescendo; but this time it was not so hard to console her. Soon, calmed by my coaxing, she dried her tears, and looked up into my face, timidly smiling; and at this I forgot all my misgivings, and told her how blessed she was making me; and she answered with a coy tossing of the head, and murmured things that my memory will treasure always but that may not be repeated. It was almost dusk when we returned to the village. From afar we could hear the shouts and cries of the revelers, the booming of drums, the shrilling of horns; and, upon approaching, we found the people riotously absorbed in their games. Some were engaged in feats of wrestling and jumping; some were racing about after little wooden balls; some were juggling with pebbles, and some twisting their bodies into fantastic contortions; some were dancing in a long writhing serpentine; some scuttled to and fro like children in games of hide-and-seek; some staggered aimlessly hither and thither with the weight of too much "sacru." So preoccupied were the people that our return was scarcely noted; indeed, it was not apparent that our absence had even been observed. But we did not care; we were glad enough to be left alone; and, after satisfying our hunger from the fruits and dainties being passed about on wooden platters, we withdrew to a secluded corner to await the firelight festivities. Gladly we would have left entirely; but we must be present later in the evening, when, in the midst of the cheering, congratulatory throng, we would be escorted to my cabin, which had been bedecked with ribbons and equipped with household supplies by our friends, and which would be the stage for a second and briefer ceremony under the auspices of Hamul-Kammesh. But before that ceremony could take place, there was to be an unscheduled exhibition. The sunset fires had barely died and the bright yellow full moon peeped above the eastern ranges, when an uncanny ruddy light flared beneath the moon; a great ball of fire blazed into sight, soaring high with startling swiftness, like a projectile shot out of some colossal gun. Sultry red with a glare that drowned out the luster of the moon and stars, it went hurtling in a long curve across the heavens and beyond the western peaks; and as it swept out of view, sputtering and scintillating like a burning rocket, an unearthly hissing came to our ears; while, after the specter had retreated, a long copper furrow remained to mark its pathway, glowing and smoldering and only gradually fading out amid the thin starlight.