When the birds fly southCoblentz, Stanton A. (Stanton Arthur)
Science
When the birds fly south
Coblentz, Stanton A. (Stanton Arthur)
Afghanistan -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
"Don't ask me--ask them!" she cried, with passion. "I've told you all I
can! You'll find out, you'll find out soon enough!"
To my astonishment, her fury was lost amid a tumult of sobbing. No
longer the passionate woman but the heart-broken child, she wept
as though she had nothing more to live for; and when I came to her
consolingly, she flung convulsive arms about me, and clung to me as
though afraid I would vanish. And then, while the storm gradually died
down and her slender form shook less spasmodically and the tears flowed
in dwindling torrents, I whispered tender and soothing things into
her ear; but all the time a new and terrible dread was in my heart,
for I was certain that Yasma had not told me everything, but that her
outburst could be explained only by some close-guarded and dire secret.
CHAPTER XIV
_THE WARNING_
Had it been possible to consult Abthar immediately in the effort to
fathom Yasma's strange conduct, I would have wasted only so much time
as was necessary to take me to the father's cabin. But, unfortunately,
I must remain in suspense. So far as I knew, Abthar had not yet
returned to the village; and none of the townsfolk seemed sure when he
would be back. "He will come before the last blossom buds on the wild
rose," was the only explanation they would offer; and knowing that it
was not the way of the Ibandru to be definite, I had to be content with
this response.
True, I might have followed Yasma's suggestion and sought advice of
Hamul-Kammesh, since already that Rip Van Winkle figure was to be seen
shuffling about the village. But ever since the time, months before,
when he had visited my sick-room and denounced me to the people, I had
disliked him profoundly; and I would about as soon have thought of
consulting a hungry tiger.
And so my only choice was to wait for Abthar's return. The interval
could not have been more than a week; but during all that time I
suffered torments. How to approach him, after his return, was a
question that occupied me continually. Should I ask him bluntly what
secret there was connected with Yasma? Or should I be less direct but
more open, and frankly describe my feelings? It was only after much
thought that I decided that it would be best to come to him candidly as
a suitor in quest of his daughter's hand.
I well remember with what mixed feelings I recognized Abthar's tall
figure once more in the village. What if, not unlike some western
fathers, he should be outraged at the idea of uniting his daughter to
an alien? Or what if he should mention some tribal law that forbade my
alliance to Yasma? or should inform me that she was already betrothed?
These and other possibilities presented themselves in a tormenting
succession ... so that, when at length I did see Abthar, I was hampered
by a weight of imaginary ills.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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