The dirty children had been playing with the donkey all this
time, and still kept up their sport but in the midst of their
sport they still had curiosity enough to keep their eyes from
time to time upon the strange boy who had come thus suddenly into
their midst. The furtive, sinister glances of their wicked black
eyes had something uncanny in them, which made Bob feel more
uncomfortable than ever. He took a seat upon a stone in front of
the house, on one side of the door-way, and looked all around.
The mountains arose there, rising first gently in an easy acclivity,
and then sweeping up with a greater incline. Their sides, and
even their summits, were here all covered with forests. On the
left he could see the bridge over which the road passed--the road
that led to safety. Could he but escape for a few moments from
the eyes of his jailers, he might be saved. And why not? Two
women, and some dirty children--why should he care for such guards
as these? One rush, one leap, and he would be free. Willingly
would he walk all the way to Salerno. Anything would be welcome
after such a captivity as this.
But Bob was doomed to disappointment; for just as he had made up
his mind to fly, just as he was looking all around to see if the
coast was clear, he saw, to his deep distress, the two brigands
approaching from the outhouse. They were carrying something which,
on nearer approach, turned out to be a sheep, which they had just
killed. Of course all thoughts of flight now departed, and Bob
could only deplore his own stupidity in allowing that one chance
of escape to pass away.
After this they began to boil portions of the sheep in a pot; and
soon the savory odor of a stew filled the room, and came to Bob's
nostrils. As he was half starving, the delicious odor excited the
utmost longing to taste it, and he at once began to feel rather
satisfied that he had not fled. He felt that a flight after dinner
would be far better. In due time the dinner was ready. It was a
stew,--mutton, with vegetables, cooked deliciously,--and Bob's
hunger was so great that if it had been worse cooked it would have
been a banquet. He had no fears of poison, no suspicions of drugging,
for the whole family prepared to partake' of the repast--the two
brigands, the old hag, the slatternly woman, and the dirty children.
The stew was poured out into a huge wooden platter; they used no
plates, but dipped with their fingers. The sight awakened a little
disgust in Bob, but he was too hungry to be squeamish, and he
succeeded in picking out various morsels which had not been touched
by the dirty hands of his companions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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