⁠Alas, a keener pang before that day,
⁠Must by the wretched Monnema be borne!
⁠In quest of game Quiara went his way
⁠To roam the wilds as he was wont, one morn;
⁠She look'd in vain at eve for his return.
⁠By moonlight thro' the midnight solitude
⁠She sought him; and she found his garment torn,
⁠His bow and useless arrows in the wood,
Marks of a jaguar's feet, a broken spear, and blood.