Pathfinder by Douglas Alan

Author:Douglas, Alan [Alan, Douglas,]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2007-10-08T04:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER XII.

THE LANGUAGE OF SIGNS.

It happened just as the boys had expected. While turning her head so often to see how near these persistent pursuers were, the woman had caught her foot in a stout vine.

She had been hurled to the ground with considerable force, but apparently received no serious injury. When she tried to regain her feet, however, on each occasion the clinging vine refused to release its hold. As a consequence she went down again.

Finally, as though realizing the uselessness of further struggling against Fate, the woman stopped trying to get up.

Having twisted around in some manner, she just sat there and stared at the three boys in khaki.

"Now she's wondering what we're going to do," said Mark, as they stood with the woman between them.

"Yes, she's frightened again, poor thing," remarked Elmer. "I'm afraid it's these uniforms that have done it. She surely takes us for soldiers, and thinks we've come here just to arrest the whole bunch."

"I'm glad of one thing, though," said Lil Artha.

"What might that be?" asked Elmer.

"Looks like she must have dropped that fierce frog sticker when she fell, because you notice she hasn't got the old knife in her claws just now."

"That's right," admitted Mark, cheerfully, for the fact naturally pleased him.

"And here it is, right at my feet," said Elmer, as he stooped and took something from the ground.

It was the knife which the Italian woman had flourished so recklessly.

"My stars, what a savage-looking thing!" ejaculated Lil Artha, as he stared at the knife.

"Well, it does look wicked for a fact," remarked Elmer; "but after all, I reckon she's never done anything with it but cut dandelion greens, or else prepared fish," and he took occasion to bring the blade close to his nose while speaking, only to make a face, as though the fishy odor that clung to the steel might be far from pleasant.

"Well, we've overhauled the lady; now whatever are we going to do with her?" demanded the tall scout.

"I wonder if she understands English?" remarked Elmer.

"Try her and see," Mark suggested.

The woman had been watching them keenly all this while. Her manner suggested that she might be trying to read her fate more from their actions than any words which they would let fall.

Accordingly, Elmer stepped forward a pace.

"No hurt," he said, in the gentlest tone he could muster; "friends—boys—no soldiers."

"She don't savvy worth a cent, Elmer," said Lil Artha, in disgust.

"And her eyes keep following your movements with the knife, as if she thought you meant to strike her," observed Mark.

Elmer himself saw that this was a fact. Plainly, then, the woman could not understand English, and in her present state of fright she seemed incapable of reading his reassuring gestures. What he meant to be a sign of friendliness she interpreted as a symbol of hostility.

"Seems to me we ought first of all to get her foot free from that nasty tangle," he remarked.

"Sure, and I guess the only way to do it is to cut the plagued old vine," said Lil Artha.

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