’That day, too, I made a friend—­of a sort.  It happened that, as I was watching some of the little people bathing in a shallow, one of them was seized with cramp and began drifting downstream.  The main current ran rather swiftly, but not too strongly for even a moderate swimmer.  It will give you an idea, therefore, of the strange deficiency in these creatures, when I tell you that none made the slightest attempt to rescue the weakly crying little thing which was drowning before their eyes.  When I realized this, I hurriedly slipped off my clothes, and, wading in at a point lower down, I caught the poor mite and drew her safe to land.  A little rubbing of the limbs soon brought her round, and I had the satisfaction of seeing she was all right before I left her.  I had got to such a low estimate of her kind that I did not expect any gratitude from her.  In that, however, I was wrong.

’This happened in the morning.  In the afternoon I met my little woman, as I believe it was, as I was returning towards my centre from an exploration, and she received me with cries of delight and presented me with a big garland of flowers—­evidently made for me and me alone.  The thing took my imagination.  Very possibly I had been feeling desolate.  At any rate I did my best to display my appreciation of the gift.  We were soon seated together in a little stone arbour, engaged in conversation, chiefly of smiles.  The creature’s friendliness affected me exactly as a child’s might have done.  We passed each other flowers, and she kissed my hands.  I did the same to hers.  Then I tried talk, and found that her name was Weena, which, though I don’t know what it meant, somehow seemed appropriate enough.  That was the beginning of a queer friendship which lasted a week, and ended—­as I will tell you!

’She was exactly like a child.  She wanted to be with me always.  She tried to follow me everywhere, and on my next journey out and about it went to my heart to tire her down, and leave her at last, exhausted and calling after me rather plaintively.  But the problems of the world had to be mastered.  I had not, I said to myself, come into the future to carry on a miniature flirtation.  Yet her distress when I left her was very great, her expostulations at the parting were sometimes frantic, and I think, altogether, I had as much trouble as comfort from her devotion.  Nevertheless she was, somehow, a very great comfort.  I thought it was mere childish affection that made her cling to me.  Until it was too late, I did not clearly know what I had inflicted upon her when I left her.  Nor until it was too late did I clearly understand what she was to me.  For, by merely seeming fond of me, and showing in her weak, futile way that she cared for me, the little doll of a creature presently gave my return to the neighbourhood of the White Sphinx almost the feeling of coming home; and I would watch for her tiny figure of white and gold so soon as I came over the hill.