This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
152
THE GUERILLA CHIEF.


Glaring like red insanity. She saw
Her lover, shrieked, and strove to fly—
But fell:—her naked feet were gashed with wounds.
"And have I met thee but to see thee die?"
Leandro cried as he laid the pale face
Upon his breast, and sobbed like a young child.
In vain he dashed the cold stream on her face,—
Still she lay like a corpse within his arms.
At length he thought him of a giant tree,
Whose hollow trunk, when children, they had oft
Called home in playfulness. He bore her there;
And of fresh flowers and the dry leaves he made
A bed for his pale love. She waked at last,
But not to consciousness: her wandering eyes
Fixed upon him, and yet she knew him not!—
Fever was on her lip and in her brain,