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. "But I guess I hadn't ought to run the thing
down, because it served us a mighty good turn just now."
"Step in and cut the vine, Elmer," suggested Mark.
When, however, the young scout master had taken a step or two forward,
knife in hand, the woman's fears were once more aroused.
She threw herself forward, struggling violently to release her trapped
foot. But the vine proved as strong as a new clothesline, and held
tenaciously.
"Good gracious, what a silly goose!" exclaimed Lil Artha, "when all we
want to do is to set her free."
"But you see she don't look at it that way. The poor creature thinks
we're conspiring to turn the tables on her, just because she threatened
us with this knife. Here, hold it, Mark."
Elmer handed over the knife to his chum at a moment when he saw that the
woman's eyes were fastened upon him.
Then he held up both his hands as he smiled reassuringly. It was the
universal "peace sign" known throughout the world. Hardly a savage tribe
in the heart of Darkest Africa but would recognize the meaning it
expressed.
This time when he advanced the Italian woman did not struggle again. She
watched him. Curiosity was overcoming fear. Perhaps she had even begun
to realize that these dreadful soldiers did not present such a savage
front after all.
So Elmer dropped down on his knees, at a point where he could come in
contact with her imprisoned foot, and the wiry vine that gripped it.
A brief examination convinced him that since she had turned around
several times during her violent struggle to break away, the only means
of freeing the entrapped foot was to cut the vine.
Of course that meant the knife again, and if he asked Mark to hand it to
him, possibly the foolish foreigner would have another fit of terror.
So Elmer commenced to use tact again.
First of all he commenced to work at the vine, the woman watching him
eagerly.
"No use, pardner," remarked Lil Artha. "That thing is like steel bands,
and the old woman has managed to tie herself up handsomely. Nothing but
a knife, and a sharp one, too, will do the business."
"I know it," replied Elmer, quietly. "I'm only pretending to try and get
her foot out just to make her understand that we want to help her. Now
just watch me, and see how I manage."
Presently, as if despairing of success, he ceased his labor. Then he
pointed to the vine, and made several slashes across it with his
forefinger, after which he pointed to the knife Mark was holding out,
and nodded his head.
The woman was interested.
"Go through it all again; she's beginning to understand," said Mark,
himself deeply interested in the success of this deaf and dumb method of
communication.
"Well, of all the stupids going, give me one of these same dagoes,"
grumbled Lil Artha. "Why, you make it plain enough for a Hottentot to
grab, Elmer. But I'm beginning to hope she'll get on soon. Try her once
more, pardner. You're the boss hand at wig-wagging. Give her the high
sign, Elmer."
Deliberately Elmer again pretended to cut the vine with his forefinger,
then shook his head and afterward pointed to the knife.
The woman's black eyes followed each movement, and evidently she began
to grasp the idea that he did not desire the weapon so as to injure, but
to assist her.
"Glory be!" ejaculated Lil Artha, who had been almost holding his breath
with suspense while all this pantomime business was going on, "look at
that, would you, fellows? A bright thought has managed to get a foothold
in her brain. I bet you it needed a sledge hammer to pound it in. Say,
she's beginning to smile at you, Elmer. You've won out. She believes you
mean all right. Give him the toad-sticker, Mark, and let him get to
work."
Elmer knew that his actions would no longer be misconstrued. The Italian
woman understood.
So he held out his hand and received the knife from Mark. The woman
moved uneasily, but the smile Elmer gave her was surely enough to disarm
any lingering suspicion she may have entertained.
Of course it was only a small job now to cut through the obstinate vine
at a point where the greatest holding point lay.
"There you are!" remarked Lil Artha, as the knife severed the last
strand.
The woman got slowly to her feet. She folded her arms across her bosom
with what seemed to be an air of resignation. Yet Elmer knew that all
the while those sparkling black eyes were watching him intently.
The woman had guessed that Elmer must be the leader of the three
strangers in uniform. Hence she looked to him for orders.
"Well, what're we going to do with this pretty thing, now that we've got
it?" remarked Lil Artha.
"I suppose, first of all, we ought to go back to the shack," said Elmer.
"You mean to hold her a prisoner, I take it?" asked Mark, who had the
utmost faith in the acting scout master's ability to grasp the
situation.
"That's about the only thing open to us," Elmer replied. "Through the
woman perhaps we can get in touch with the three men who are holding Nat
Scott a prisoner, and bring about his release."
"I don't see how," grumbled Lil Artha. "If you had all that trouble
getting her to understand you only meant to cut the old vine, and not
her foot off, how in the dickens d'ye expect to get her to know we don't
mean to do her bunch any harm?"
"Oh, there may be ways," smiled Elmer.
"But you don't speak Italiano, Elmer; that's dead sure, else you'd have
used it right now to tell her you only wanted to cut the vine," Lil
Artha went on.
"How about George?" remarked Elmer.
"What! George Robbins?" asked the tall scout.
"Why, yes, you remember he told us his father employs a large number of
these foreigners, and unless I'm mistaken I think I remember hearing
George say he'd been picking up quite a lot of Italian words."
"That sounds all to the good then," declared Lil Artha, with enthusiasm.
"Bully for George! His knowledge may be the key that's going to unlock
this old padlock for us."
"Then let's get back to the shack. Fall in around the woman. That ought
to tell her what we want her to do."
Elmer, as he spoke, took up his position alongside the prisoner, while
Mark and the long-legged scout clapped their sticks to their right
shoulders as though parading arms.
Then Elmer pointed backward in the direction they had just come from.
"Go!" he said, impressively.
Whether the prisoner understood the word, or judged from their actions
what was required, Elmer could not say. All he cared for was the fact
that when he started off she accompanied him, limping a little as though
she might have twisted her ankle somewhat in the violence of her
struggles, looking sullen rather than fearful now, and apparently
resigned to her fate, whatever that might prove to be.
There was no difficulty about reaching the abandoned shack again. All
Elmer had to do was to follow the broad trail they had made when chasing
after the fleeing woman.
They found no change when they presently drew up at the hidden retreat.
Nor was there any sign of the other scouts, though once Elmer thought he
did hear loud and excited voices up on the side of the mountain, as
though Matty and his detachment might have found it necessary to leave
the lowlands, and were having troubles of their own.
"Well," remarked Lil Artha, as they arrived in front of the shack, "here
we are, all to the good, and right side up with care. The question is,
what d'ye expect to do with the signorina, now that you've got her?"
"She must be kept a prisoner in the shanty until we can decide on our
course, and get George here," replied Elmer, so readily that the others
understood how he must have his plan of action fully mapped out in his
own mind.
"Let's see you usher her in, then," chuckled the tall scout, just as
though he anticipated enjoying a treat when Elmer tried to "shoo" the
Italian woman into the place.
But it proved the easiest thing possible. When Elmer took her by the arm
and pointed to the open door the woman gave him one look, shook herself
free from his grasp, and hastened to vanish within the shack.
"Easy as falling off a log," declared Lil Artha, a shade of
disappointment in his voice, for he had anticipated more or less of a
struggle.
Elmer quietly closed the door.
"How are you going to fasten it?" asked Mark.
"I wish that was the hardest nut I had to crack," laughed the scout
master. "Fortunately the door opens outwardly."
"Unfortunately, you mean," echoed Mark, as he touched the painful lump
on his forehead.
"I say yes to that," grinned Lil Artha, whose nose had stopped bleeding
by this time, but whose face was a sight to behold, being smeared with
all manner of strange red marks that made him resemble an Apache Indian
on the warpath.
"As it does open outwardly, however," Elmer went on saying, with a
sympathetic smile for the woes of his chums, "it ought to be easy enough
for us to barricade the door. Look around, boys, and see if you can find
several good stout sticks about three or four feet long. Even a small
tree trunk would be about what we want."
"And I think I know where to find one," said Lil Artha, hastening away,
"because I took a header over it when we were chasing the dago woman."