Slow Signal Fade ebooks

The lazy flapping flight
of large blue and black morpho butterflies high in the air, the
hum of insects, and many inanimate sounds, contributed their
share to the total impression this strange solitude produced.
Heavy fruits from the crowns of trees which were mingled together
at a giddy height overhead, fell now and then with a startling
"plop" into the water. The breeze, not felt below, stirred in the
topmost branches, setting the twisted and looped sipos in motion,
which creaked and groaned in a great variety of notes. To these
noises were added the monotonous ripple of the brook, which had
its little cascade at every score or two yards of its course.
We frequently fell in with an old Indian woman, named Cecilia,
who had a small clearing in the woods. She had the reputation of
being a witch (feiticeira), and I found, on talking with her,
that she prided herself on her knowledge of the black art. Her
slightly curled hair showed that she was not a pureblood Indian--
I was told her father was a dark mulatto.


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