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Show Page 87 "You outstep your bounds," I said, my manner the forthright one that had blossomed when Aunt Mary died. "Touch me not else you wish to have a scar under your left eye to match the one under your right." I felt the man behind me stiffen and his hands fell from my shoulders. "As you wish," he said. "Rawhunt," he called then, and from out of the trees, where he must have been standing all the while, stepped a true son of Virginia. Like the Indian of James Towne, one side of his head was shaved and he wore only an apron of skin about his middle. A dead rat swung from his right ear, being tied there by its tail. His body, too, was painted yellow and gave off a powerful odor. "This is Mistress Sarah Douglas," John told the Indian, his voice stiff. "She is new to the settlement and it is plain she will need much looking after. I want you to see she comes to no harm." I was about to retort that I could look after myself when the Indian said something in his own tongue. "What did he say?" I asked sharply. "He said perhaps the most important thing he could do would be to teach the white maiden how to behave with proper respect toward the braves of her tribe." "You just tell him I give respect to those who merit it," |
