The Adventures of Kathlyn

With the assistance of the shepherd Kathlyn went down the rope agilely

and safely. Once firmly on her feet, she turned to thank the wild-eyed

hillman. But her best Hindustani (and she was able to speak and

understand quite a little by now) fell on ears which heard but did not

sense what she said. The man, mild and harmless enough, for all his

wild eyes, shrank back, for no woman of his kind had ever looked like

this. Kathlyn, with a deal of foreboding, repeated the phrase, and

asked the way back to the hunter's rest house. He shook his head; he

understood nothing.

But there is one language which is universal the world over, and this

is sign language. Kathlyn quickly stooped and drew in the dust the

shape of the rest house. Then she pointed in the direction from whence

she had come. He smiled and nodded excitedly. He understood now.

Next, being unarmed, she felt the need of some sort of weapon. So she

drew the shape of a rifle in the dust, then produced four rupees, all

she had. The shepherd gurgled delightedly, ran into the hut, and

returned with a rifle of modern make and a belt of cartridges. With a

gesture he signified that it was useless to him because he did not know

how to use it.

He took the rupees and Kathlyn took the rifle, vaguely wondering how it

came into the possession of this poverty-stricken hillman. Of one

thing she was certain; it had become his either through violence of his

own or of others. She examined the breech and found a dead shell,

which she cast out. The rifle carried six cartridges, and she loaded

skillfully, much to the astonishment of the hillman. Then she swung

the butt to her shoulder and fired up at the ledge where the panthers

had last been seen.

The hillman cried out in alarm and scuttled away to his hut. When he

peered forth again Kathlyn made a friendly gesture, and he approached

timidly. Once more she pointed to the dust, at the picture of the rest

house; and then, by many stabs of his finger in the air, he succeeded

in making the way back sufficiently clear to Kathlyn, who smiled,

shouldered the rifle and strode confidently down the winding path; but

also she was alert and watchful.

There was not a bit of rust on the rifle, and the fact that one bullet

had sped smoothly convinced her that the weapon was serviceable. Some

careful hunter had once possessed it, for it was abundantly oiled. To

whom had it belonged? It was of German make; but that signified

nothing. It might have belonged to an Englishman, a Frenchman, or a

Russian; more likely the latter, since this was one of the localities

where they crossed and recrossed with their note-books to be utilized

against that day when the Bear dropped down from the north and tackled

the Lion.