s old
age; of her last servitude; of being thrown away by her chief, by her
nearest, to use up the last and worthless remnant of flickering life
between those two incomprehensible and sombre outcasts: a shrivelled, an
unmoved, a passive companion of their disaster.

To the river Willems turned his eyes like a captive that looks fixedly
at the door of his cell. If there was any hope in the world it would
come from the river, by the river. For hours together he would stand in
sunlight while the sea breeze sweeping over the lonely reach fluttered
his ragged garments; the keen salt breeze that made him shiver now
and then under the flood of intense heat. He looked at the brown and
sparkling solitude of the flowing water, of the water flowing ceaseless
and free in a soft, cool murmur of ripples at his feet. The world seemed
to end there. The forests of the other bank appeared unattainable,
enigmatical, for ever beyond reach like the stars of heaven--and as
indifferent. Above and below, the forests on his side of the river came
down to the water in a serried multitude of tall, immense trees towering
in a great spread of twisted boughs above the thick undergrowth; great,
solid trees, looking sombre, severe, and malevolently stolid, like a
giant crowd of pitiless enemies pressing round silently to witness
his slow agony. He was alone, small, crushed. He thought of escape--of
something to be done. What? A raft! He imagined himself working at it,
feverishly, desperately; cutting down trees, fastening the logs together
and then drifting down with the current, down to the sea into the
straits. There were ships there--ships, help, white men. Men like
himself. Good men who would rescue him, take him away, take him far away
where there was trade, and houses, and other men that could understand
him exactly, appreciate his capabilities; where there was proper food,
and money; where there were beds, knives, forks, carriages, brass bands,
cool drinks, churches with well-dressed people praying in them. He would
pray also. The superior land of refined delights where he could sit on
a chair, eat his tiffin off a white tablecloth, nod to fellows--good
fellows; he would be popular; always was--where he could be virtuous,
correct, do business, draw a salary, smoke cigars, buy things in
shops--have boots . . . be happy, free, become rich. O God! What was
wanted? Cut down a few trees. No! One would do. They used to make canoes
by burning out a tr