|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 17
Grace laughed merrily.
"Mr. Fairweather is mistaken. I am terribly shy of snakes and--
and--well, I don't know what else" she added lamely.
Hi Lang chuckled under his breath.
"Yes, that's our camp where you see the smoke. I just caught a
glimpse of Ping. I reckon when we get closer we'll hear his
voice."
"We are almost there, girls," Grace called back to her companions.
"That is Ping's smoke you see yonder."
"Is Ping on fire?" answered Emma so innocently that the
Overlanders shouted with laughter, and Hi indulged in the hearty,
soundless laugh that they had already discovered was
characteristic of him.
A few moments later a cooling breeze from the range was wafted
down to them, heavy with, odors of mountain and foliage and
suggestive of cooling mountain water as well.
"What's that screeching?" demanded Hippy Wingate, as they fell
into single file and began climbing a narrow mountain trail.
"Screeching?" answered Anne Nesbit. "Why, that's our Celestial
being singing a lullaby to the coyotes lurking in their dens."
As they drew nearer those in advance could make out some of the
words of the song. The guide pointed to a rock, behind which Ping
was cooking supper, and held up a hand to indicate that the party
was to stop and listen.
"What on earth, is he saying?" wondered Nora Wingate.
"I should call it a heathen version of 'Little Jack Horner,'"
suggested Miss Briggs.
Hi nodded.
"Listen!" urged Grace. "I want to hear it. Perhaps he will sing it
again."
The guide said that when Ping got started on a song he ordinarily
kept it up for some time unless interrupted.
"Sh--h--h!" warned Grace as Emma began to laugh. "He is singing
again."
Ping, in a high falsetto voice that was almost a screech, sang:
"Littee Jack Horner Makee sit inside corner, Chow-chow he Clismas
pie; He put inside t'um, Hab catchee one plum, Hai yah! what one
good chilo (child) my!"
The Overland girls, unable longer to contain their laughter, burst
into a shout of merriment. The song ceased instantly, and a moment
later Ping appeared at the top of the rock, clad in a white linen
suit, the blouse, with its wide-flowing sleeves, being cut in
native Chinese fashion The queue, which Ping had declined to part
was tucked into a side pocket, being all braided up and shiny,
like a snake.
The Chinaman, in greeting, bowed and scraped and smiled and shook
hands with himself cordially.
"Hulloa, Ping Pong! Is supper ready?" called Hippy jovially.
"Him come along, top-side piecee Heaven pidgin man," answered the
Chinaman without an instant's hesitation, which, being freely
translated, meant, "Supper is ready, high Heaven-born man." The
retort brought a peal of laughter from the girls and a flush to
the face of Hippy.
"All right, old top. You win," was the way Hippy confessed his
defeat.
It was a happy, laughing group that rode around the rock and into
the camp where odors of cooking food, and the smiling face of Ping
Wing, met them. Horses were quickly unsaddled and tethered, then
the guide introduced his charges. Ping shook hands with himself at
each introduction, and smiled and bowed with a profound grace that
would have done credit at a king's reception.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|