palm toward her in sign that she should not assault him. She recalled some of the language that Thandar had taught her—maybe they would understand it.
“Go-way!” she cried. “Go-way! Nadara kill bad-men.”
A look of pleasure overspread Burlinghame’s face—the girl spoke English.
“We are not bad men,” he called up to her. “We will not harm you.”
“What yqu want?” asked Nadara, still unconvinced by mere words.
“We want to talk with you,” replied Burlinghame. “We are looking for a friend who was shipwrecked upon this island. Come down. We will not harm you. Have we not already proved our friendship by killing this fellow who pursued you?”
This man spoke precisely the tongue of Thandar. Nadara could understand every word, for Thandar had talked to her much in English. She could understand it better than she could speak it. If they talked the same tongue as Thandar they must be from the same country. Maybe they were Thandar’s friends. Anyway they were like him, and Thandar never harmed women. She could trust them. Slowly she lowered her sapling and began the descent. Several times she hesitated as though minded to return to her ledge, but Burlinghame’s
