The Children's Hour, v 5. Stories From Seven Old FavoritesTappan, Eva March
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The Children's Hour, v 5. Stories From Seven Old Favorites
Tappan, Eva March
Children's stories; Literature -- Adaptations
The poor savage who fled, but had stopped, though he saw both his
enemies fallen and killed, as he thought, yet was so frighted with the
fire and noise of my piece that he stood stock still, and neither came
forward or went backward, though he seemed rather inclined to fly
still than to come on. I hallooed again to him, and made signs to come
forward, which he easily understood, and came a little way, then
stopped again, and then a little further, and stopped again; and I
could then perceive that he stood trembling, as if he had been taken
prisoner, and had just been to be killed, as his two enemies were. I
beckoned him again to come to me, and gave him all the signs of
encouragement that I could think of; and he came nearer and nearer,
kneeling down every ten or twelve steps, in token of acknowledgment
for my saving his life. I smiled at him, and looked pleasantly, and
beckoned to him to come still nearer. At length he came close to me,
and then he kneeled down again, kissed the ground, and laid his head
upon the ground, and taking me by the foot, set my foot upon his head.
This, it seems, was in token of swearing to be my slave forever. I
took him up, and made much of him, and encouraged him all I could. But
there was more work to do yet; for I perceived the savage whom I
knocked down was not killed, but stunned with the blow, and began to
come to himself; so I pointed to him, and showing him the savage, that
he was not dead, upon this he spoke some words to me; and though I
could not understand them, yet I thought they were pleasant to hear;
for they were the first sound of a man's voice that I had heard, my
own excepted, for above twenty-five years. But there was no time for
such reflections now. The savage who was knocked down recovered
himself so far as to sit up upon the ground, and I perceived that my
savage began to be afraid; but when I saw that, I presented my other
piece at the man, as if I would shoot him. Upon this my savage, for so
I call him now, made a motion to me to lend him my sword, which hung
naked in a belt by my side; so I did. He no sooner had it but he runs
to his enemy, and, at one blow, cut off his head as cleverly, no
executioner in Germany could have done it sooner or better; which I
thought very strange for one who, I had reason to believe, never saw a
sword in his life before, except their own wooden swords. However, it
seems, as I learned afterwards, they make their wooden swords so
sharp, so heavy, and the wood is so hard, that they will cut off heads
even with them, ay, and arms, and that at one blow too. When he had
done this, he comes laughing to me in sign of triumph, and brought me
the sword again, and with abundance of gestures, which I did not
understand, laid it down, with the head of the savage that he had
killed, just before me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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