When Foster-father saw the man in the brown blanket, who from his crook
was evidently a shepherd, he heaved a sigh of relief. "Now," he said,
"we shall be able to find out our way."
But he was mistaken. The man did not understand a word they said,
neither could they understand a word he said.
Head-nurse was in despair. "He speaks like a ghost of the desert," she
wept. "We shall all die of starvation before he understands."
"Die?" echoed Foster-father stoutly. "Not so, woman! There is one
language all understand."
Whereupon he placed himself right in front of the shepherd, opened his
mouth wide and then shook his head. Next he pointed to his stomach and
shook his head again. Finally he began to chew violently, rubbed his
stomach and grinned.
The shepherd grinned too and rubbed _his_ stomach, whereupon
Foster-father turned triumphantly to Head-nurse.
"Said I not sooth, woman," he asked. "Hunger hath a tongue of its own,
and all men know it."
Once begun, signs soon brought so much understanding, that, whistling to
his dog, the shepherd started down the hill at a great pace, beckoning
them to follow.
"Not so fast, friend, not so fast!" panted Foster-father, "we be not all
born on a mountain as thou art. And there are women and children, too."
He pointed to poor Head-nurse and Foster-mother, who were indeed
dropping with fatigue, and the man seemed to understand, for he pulled
up.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40