Presently the
rain ceased, the wind abated slightly, but the sky was still thickly
covered with clouds; therefore both wind and rain might be expected at
night. Nagendra went on, not turning back.
Though it was early in the evening, there was thick darkness, because
of the clouds. There was no sign of village, house, plain, road, or
river; but the trees, being surrounded by myriads of fireflies,
looked like artificial trees studded with diamonds. The lightning
goddess also still sent quick flashes through the now silent black and
white clouds. A woman's anger does not die away suddenly. The
assembled frogs, rejoicing in the newly fallen rain, held high
festival; and if you listened attentively the voice of the cricket
might be heard, like the undying crackle of Ravana's[1] funeral pyre.
Amid the sounds might be distinguished the fall of the rain-drops on
the leaves of the trees, and that of the leaves into the pools
beneath; the noise of jackals' feet on the wet paths, occasionally
that of the birds on the trees shaking the water from their drenched
feathers, and now and then the moaning of the almost subdued wind.
Presently Nagendra saw a light in the distance.
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