Green Mansions a Romance of the Tropical Forest

But at length, one night, without thinking of Rima’s fearful end, it all at once occurred to me that the hated savage whose blood I had shed on the white savannah might have only been practicing his natural deceit when he told me that most pitiful story. If that were so–if he had been prepared with a fictitious account of her death to meet my questions–then Rima might still exist.