Also you are well rid of this jungle hussy who, in the end, would, beyond all doubt, have dragged your soul to. . . . Have done! Let be! Are you mad? Arrrrgh. . . ."
But Kûlop Rîau spoke no other word in life.
When the Jĕlai lads tracked and found them, both men were dead and stiff. Kûlop still grasped the woodknife which he had plunged again and again into Kria's body; but the latter's fingers were locked in the old tracker's throat in a grip which, even in death, no force could relax. None the less, though they could not separate them, they buried them both—since they were Muhammadans, and, as such, claimed that service at the hands of their fellows. But Pi-Noi's little body they left to the beasts of the forest which in life had been her playmates.
