Page:Harris Dickson--Old Reliable in Africa.djvu/240

 teeth—and a necklace. She knelt before a slab of stone, much hollowed by use, grinding dhurra with another stone. "Jes' like scrubbin' clo'es on a washboard," Zack remarked to himself. Time and again she moistened the mushy mess, pushed it back to the top of the slab, then rubbed it slowly down again. While thus engaged she always rested back upon her heels, and smiled at Zack. Old Reliable made shift to take off his helmet and fumble at the ribbons; he disliked to embarrass a lady by staring at her—a lady who had never eaten of the apple. A piece of frazzled cloth around her hips momentarily threatened to slip off, which kept Zack's nerves on the ragged edge. But the woman always tightened it in the nick of time, and smiled. At these crucial moments Zack turned away and regarded the landscape. "Seliny's sho' gwine to snort at dis—ef I tells her."

Presently the woman rose, leaned over the stern of the barge, and drew a bucket of water. Zack sprang gallantly to her side—"Lemme do dat, lemme do dat."

Immediately four other women, old and withered, glanced up from their tasks. Then all of an instant they ceased smiling; their lips shut and their teeth vanished—simultaneously as a string of electric lights that are switched off. They stared at Zack for one instant, looked over their