Chapter the Second A Well Thought Through Exit . . .

"Aaaaahh, I'm in a forrest!!!!" I panicked. I was in a forrest!?! Maybe I was being kidnapped!!! I began random squeaking noises of panic. Glancing around I noticed this was not a lovely forrest, it was an old one, with gnarly twisted things making scary shapes all around, which were compounded in my fragile mental state with numerous scary nature noises. My mind was turning over every nightmarish scenario it could come up with. My parents would be forced to pay ransom money . . . I would be murdered . . . and my cold dead carcass found many months from now. Escape! Now!!! I whipped around and made a dive into the forrest.

"Smack" came the sound of my head smashing into an ill positioned tree. A few stars buzzed up into my vision. Someone ran over too me. I was reduced to a quaking mount of jelly, so I did the only thing I could.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," I screamed.

"Don ne bisgu, we beon FREOND. Se feondsceatha beon fleon. Beon thu hus?" [It is ok, we're FRIEND. The robbers are gone. Are you hurt?] Whoever it was propped me up so I was sitting against a tree and patted my shoulder encouragingly.

"Beon he ealle riht?" [Is he alright?]

"Unggipph!" I managed, looking around at the nasty forrest, my eyes came to an unfocused rest on someone trying to start a fire. I wondered through my fuzzy panic why he didn't just use a match. . .

"Beon the fot hus?" [Is your foot hurt?] said the person crouched close to me. I stared back dumbly, the fear dropping into my belly. . . fear is apparently not digestible.

"Motan ic beseon to the fot?" [May I look at it?] He said gesturing kindly at my shoeless foot. I blinked.

"Ic don ne myntan beon brecan. Ic myntan beon on onbugan," [I do not think it is broken. It just looks like a sprain] he said, looking up at me. "Ic neontan thin halscath to bewerian se fot," [I'll use your neck-cloth to wrap it up,] he continued, pulling off my scarf. Was he going to hang me! But instead of stringing me up in one of the trees, he wrapped it around my ankle like a bandage.

"Hey, wait a second, that was really nice," I though. I felt my blind panic lessen, and the movement returning to me.

"Th, th, thank you," I managed. Some others came over.

"Don thu maelan eanig englisc?" [Do you speak any english?]

"Engliscgereorde? Do thu cunnan eanig?" [English? Do you know any?]

"Beon thu fra neah?" [Are you from near?] I stared at them with somewhat very wide and blank eyes.

"I'm sorry, I, I, I, I don't understand," I said, preparing myself to learn that I had lost some vital part of my brain like Wernick's area.

"Don thu asmeagan eanig engliscgereorde?" [Do you understand any english.]

"Thu. Asmeagan? Englisc?" [You. Understand? English?"]

"Ummm?" What were the going on about English?

"Ic hige he beon swingan ful heard on se wisian." [I thought he was just hit very hard on the head.]

"Motan he beon." [Maybe he was.]

"Wha we don nu?" [What do we do now?] said one of them pointing at me, and then making a shrugging motion. Ok wait, I get it, they want to know my name. They need it to find my parents to demand the ransom money.

"Me? My name?

"Don he cwethan hw¾hwugu gelic,Ômin nama,'?" [Did he just say something like, Ômy name'?]

"Anna McLoed. . . " I had the distinct feeling I had all at once an unusually undivided audience.

"A- Anna McLeod." I nodded.

"McLeod?"

"Yes.

"Don eow myntan he beon in leod? Thu. Leod?" [Do you think he is a prince? You. Prince.] What? That I really wasn't getting.

"Ic hicgan he motan leasungan . . ." [I think He may be lying . . .]

"Oflfe fea bifian inne se heafod." [Or a little shaken around in the head.]

"Aiiii, min lig byrnan ne! Hwear beon se - Eeeii" [Ah, my fire went out! Where is the- OWW!]

"We. Findan. Thu. Hider." [We. Found. You. There.] said one of them.

"Thu," [You,] he said pointing at me, "Hider," [Here,] he pointed to the forrest,"Eac swa fleat," [Like this,] he concluded, laying down and making an imitation of someone dead. He repeated the mime a few times, but it was getting dark very quickly so I could only see him halfway. Was he saying they had found me laying the the forrest? I pointed at him, and then made a searching motion, and then pointed at me. I had to repeat many times, but he eventually got it. He nodded vigorously.

If I had thought the scinerio I had first found myself in was somewhat disturbing, this was fifty times as scary. If this weird guy was telling the truth . . . then they had found me in this forrest. That meant there was someone else who had put me there. My real kidnapper! Probably the same murderous bicyclist. . . I felt all the food in my belly coagulate. Strange haircuts or not, these people had probably saved my life.

THE NOTES

ÔAnna' for The Saxons could be a boys name, in fact it was the name of a Saxon king. McLeod means "son of the prince".