Brooding and despondent he took his solitary way into the deepest
jungle. He moved along the ground when he knew that Numa was abroad
and hungry. He took to the same trees that harbored Sheeta, the
panther. He courted death in a hundred ways and a hundred forms.
His mind was ever occupied with reminiscences of Meriem and the
happy years that they had spent together. He realized now to the
full what she had meant to him. The sweet face, the tanned, supple,
little body, the bright smile that always had welcomed his return
from the hunt haunted him continually.
Inaction soon threatened him with madness. He must be on the go.
He must fill his days with labor and excitement that he might
forget--that night might find him so exhausted that he should sleep
in blessed unconsciousness of his misery until a new day had come.
Had he guessed that by any possibility Meriem might still live he
would at least have had hope. His days could have been devoted to
searching for her; but he implicitly believed that she was dead.
For a long year he led his solitary, roaming life.
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