"Elfreda uses her head, Hippy. How much better than flying into a rage
and threatening your enemy with dire things," reminded Grace.
"You don't always do that yourself," retorted Hippy. "Thanks, Joe. Had
it not been for you we might have had a disturbance."
"Aren't we ever going to have peace?" wailed Emma. "I know I shall have
nervous prostration at this rate."
"Cheer up. Let the voice of nature soothe your troubled spirits and rise
above such common things as mere officers of the law," comforted Hippy.
"What next?"
"Suppose we break camp and move," suggested Grace.
"Yes, yes; let's do so," urged Anne.
"Do you think they will come back, darlin'?" questioned Nora anxiously.
"Not before it is time for the swallows to build their nests under the
eaves."
Joe, muttering to herself, went out to fetch in her pack mules, June and
July, preparatory to loading the equipment on them for the start. Joe
was a little rougher with the animals than usual, and their ears, tilted
back at a sharp angle, indicated their resentment, but the guide was too
angry to notice this danger signal. A sharp slap on June's thigh to make
the animal step over was followed by a lightning-like flash of two tough
little mule heels, and Joe Shafto was lifted from her feet and hurled
against July, and then July began to kick.
The Overlanders, frightened for the safety of the guide, ran to assist
her, when, out of the mix-up, leaped the forest woman, her hair tumbled
down her back, and eyes blazing through the big horn-rimmed spectacles,
she having rolled under July and out of the way with amazing agility.
"I'll larn ye, ye beasts!" she shrieked, running for her club.
June felt the sting of it, and July grunted as the club descended on the
fleshy part of her hip, at the same instant shooting both hind feet into
the air; but this time Joe was out of reach.
"Here, here!" cried Hippy, springing forward to interfere. "We don't
permit any one to beat animals in this menagerie," he chided, grabbing
the woman's club.
"Leggo!" shrieked Joe, wrenching the club from his hands. "No man ain't
goin' to tell Joe Shafto what she kin do. Git out of here!" she raged,
advancing threateningly on Hippy. "I'll paste them mules when I want to,
and--"
"That's all right, old dear," soothed Hippy, backing up laughingly, but
Joe followed him, shaking the club before his face.
"Don't ye 'old dear' me. Mules is swine, and no better'n some men, and I
give ye notice no man ain't goin' to come 'tween me and my mules. I'll
paste 'em when I like, and I'll paste 'em like they did me, the
varmints, and I won't have no animile that walks like a man interferin'
'tween me and the mules and tellin' me what ter do. Git out of here
afore I give ye a wallop on the jaw, fer I'm goin' ter finish what I
begun on June, and her name'll be December when I git through, and don't
ye fergit it." Joe grabbed the mule by an ear, gave the animal a prod
with her club, then slapped June's face.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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