Good Marimonda! her humid and shivering skin, her bruised and bleeding
feet, her in-flamed eyes, plainly tell Selkirk how long she has been
in search of him, how she has watched, run, to find him, and, not
finding him, what she has suffered at his absence.
Her first transports over, by his pale complexion, by his dim eye, she
quickly divines that it is want of food which has reduced him to this
condition. Swift as a bird she climbs the sides of the tunnel; she
repeatedly goes and returns, bringing each time fruits and canes full
of savory and refreshing liquid. It is precisely the usual hour for
their first repast, and once more they can partake of it together.
Revived by this repast, by the sight of his companion in exile,
Selkirk recovers his ideas of life and liberty. This abyss, from which
she ascends with so much facility, who knows but with her aid he may
be able in his turn to leave it? He remembers his lasso; he puts one
end of it into Marimonda's hand. It is now necessary that she should
fix it to some projection of the rock, some strong shrub, which may
serve as a point of support.
It was perhaps presuming too much on the intelligence which nature has
bestowed on the race of monkeys. At her master's orders, Marimonda
would seize the end of the cord, then immediately abandon it, as she
needed entire freedom of motion to enable her to scale the walls of
the tunnel.
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