Chapter the Third
Murderous Lunatics are Behind Every Tree . . .
It took at least half an hour for them to even get a fire started. That was 107,999 second too long. It takes unbelievably long to coaxes a tiny spark into even the smallest of flames. And then you have to slowly build it up. . .
"Please God, don't let the scary guy kill me. Please God, don't let the scary guy find us."
"Beon thu ealle riht Anna?" [Are you alright Anna] said one of them from the other side of where their pathetic fire was smoldering. I could see them in the less than adequate light. I could count four, and I was between two of them. I looked around. The fire showed a ring of forrest which crawled back and away until it was complete darkness. I could see the light glinting eerily off of patches of grey and dirty snow.
I edged closer into the fire, if that was possible. I little later I noticed my coat was melting, and so inched back a bit. The one in the black jabbed the fire with a stick. A few minutes later one of them put another branch on. A while later I noticed how the fire had melted all the snow around, and that I was now very wet. I moved closer to the fire to dry out. Some slush fell off a tree and down the back of my coat. I clawed it out with a yelp. One of the others had the nerve to think it was funny. A while later one of the other sneezed a few times. A while after that one of them tossed another branch on. A while later someone said something unintelligible. A while later I got hit with slush again. I noted that it was warm enough that there was slush. . . very odd for December. I glanced at the others. They weren't saying much at the moment. They just looked pretty cold. A wood tepee collapsed in the the flames with a gentle thuck sending a shower of sparks up. For being the scariest night of my life it was almost as frighteningly peaceful. For the fact that there was probably some maniac creeping up behind me about to smash the life out of everyone here . . . ahhh . . .
"What do I do." I though, " what do I do. God? What? What? What? God, what do I do?"
I blinked. It was a lot lighter than it had looked a few seconds ago . . . or maybe I nodded off. I looked around. No one had moved much. One of them was leaned over and drooling slightly, but otherwise everything was the same. I felt unbelievably stiff, and cold. In the somewhat light I got a better look at my rescuers. They had very . . . unusual garments. Maybe there were extreme hippies. Or maybe they were just wearing these strange clothing because they were suited for outdoor camping . . . but there was surely better stuff from Mountain Equipment Co-op. But who really cares how they felt like dressing, or how they cut their hair, they did after all save my life. . . or at least that is what they said.
"I have to go to the bathroom," I thought. I crawled behind a tree, keeping an eye out for maniacs. I started crawling back around the tree, wondering vaguely about toilet paper. But they were gone! The whole camp was gone! There was just the dark shape of trees around. I felt the now familiar feeling of swallowing my heart. But wait a moment. . . there they were . . . I hobbled back and sat down again, feeling very relieved. The one I had though was in black woke up with a start, and rubbed his eyes. He jabbed the others awake.
"Aweccan, ealle becuman loeht" [Wake up, it is getting light.] The other got up. They looked somewhat like I felt. . One in pale red dumped some snow on the fire, which died miserably.
"Hider, cuman betweox us fleat thu cunnan gan." [Here, come between us so that you can walk.] One of them said, make elaborate gestures. I looked somewhat non-comprehensively back.
"Hider," [Here] he said pulling me up, "Ge-logian thin hlast on me." [Put your weight on me.]
"Anbidan, thin pohha." [Wait, your bag.]
"What?" One of them waved my bag in front of me.
"Pohha." [Bag.]
"Ic beran se pohha." [I'll carry it.]
"Wait, it is came open." I tried to zip it up, but the zipper had been smashed. Oh well, not that it really mattered, but it was really nice of these people to even care about it.
"Hider, betynan fleat gelic fleat foldwig," [Here, close it like this,] one of them tied a few decorative strings together.
"Ealle riht? Leatan us gan." [Alright, lets go.]
"Look, I just really wanted to say thank you for saving my life." "Gif thu bethurfan to cunnan se foldweg to eanig lecgan ic magan to helpan thu. [If you need to know the way to any place, I can help you.] The chatty fellow was obviously very sure of the direction he was going in.
" Min feader agen se land abutan hider, forthy ic cunnan se land ful feagere. Beon in burg neah min ham . . . of for. We willan helpan thu to se burg. Thu forstandan. Burg. Neah."[My father owns the land around here, therefore I know the land around here very well. There is a town near my home . . . of course. We are willing to help you there. You understand? Town. Near.] I got the feeling that they had at least understood the important parts of me speech. The fellow had just made some humble comments most likely . . . something about just being in the area.
"I really will be indebted to you forever.
"Is butu eower feader land. He is min brother. Us. Brotheran." [It is both of our father's. He's my brother. Us. Brothers.] I smiled and nodded. It was strange, but I actually understood a few words when they said them very, very slowly. They just had a really strong accents. . . they were probably going to turn out to be unusual European tourist . . .
THE NOTES: Ok, I admit I have changed the thorn thingies to Ôth' and ¾ to Ôea' but that is because they show up as something else.
It took at least half an hour for them to even get a fire started. That was 107,999 second too long. It takes unbelievably long to coaxes a tiny spark into even the smallest of flames. And then you have to slowly build it up. . .
"Please God, don't let the scary guy kill me. Please God, don't let the scary guy find us."
"Beon thu ealle riht Anna?" [Are you alright Anna] said one of them from the other side of where their pathetic fire was smoldering. I could see them in the less than adequate light. I could count four, and I was between two of them. I looked around. The fire showed a ring of forrest which crawled back and away until it was complete darkness. I could see the light glinting eerily off of patches of grey and dirty snow.
I edged closer into the fire, if that was possible. I little later I noticed my coat was melting, and so inched back a bit. The one in the black jabbed the fire with a stick. A few minutes later one of them put another branch on. A while later I noticed how the fire had melted all the snow around, and that I was now very wet. I moved closer to the fire to dry out. Some slush fell off a tree and down the back of my coat. I clawed it out with a yelp. One of the others had the nerve to think it was funny. A while later one of the other sneezed a few times. A while after that one of them tossed another branch on. A while later someone said something unintelligible. A while later I got hit with slush again. I noted that it was warm enough that there was slush. . . very odd for December. I glanced at the others. They weren't saying much at the moment. They just looked pretty cold. A wood tepee collapsed in the the flames with a gentle thuck sending a shower of sparks up. For being the scariest night of my life it was almost as frighteningly peaceful. For the fact that there was probably some maniac creeping up behind me about to smash the life out of everyone here . . . ahhh . . .
"What do I do." I though, " what do I do. God? What? What? What? God, what do I do?"
I blinked. It was a lot lighter than it had looked a few seconds ago . . . or maybe I nodded off. I looked around. No one had moved much. One of them was leaned over and drooling slightly, but otherwise everything was the same. I felt unbelievably stiff, and cold. In the somewhat light I got a better look at my rescuers. They had very . . . unusual garments. Maybe there were extreme hippies. Or maybe they were just wearing these strange clothing because they were suited for outdoor camping . . . but there was surely better stuff from Mountain Equipment Co-op. But who really cares how they felt like dressing, or how they cut their hair, they did after all save my life. . . or at least that is what they said.
"I have to go to the bathroom," I thought. I crawled behind a tree, keeping an eye out for maniacs. I started crawling back around the tree, wondering vaguely about toilet paper. But they were gone! The whole camp was gone! There was just the dark shape of trees around. I felt the now familiar feeling of swallowing my heart. But wait a moment. . . there they were . . . I hobbled back and sat down again, feeling very relieved. The one I had though was in black woke up with a start, and rubbed his eyes. He jabbed the others awake.
"Aweccan, ealle becuman loeht" [Wake up, it is getting light.] The other got up. They looked somewhat like I felt. . One in pale red dumped some snow on the fire, which died miserably.
"Hider, cuman betweox us fleat thu cunnan gan." [Here, come between us so that you can walk.] One of them said, make elaborate gestures. I looked somewhat non-comprehensively back.
"Hider," [Here] he said pulling me up, "Ge-logian thin hlast on me." [Put your weight on me.]
"Anbidan, thin pohha." [Wait, your bag.]
"What?" One of them waved my bag in front of me.
"Pohha." [Bag.]
"Ic beran se pohha." [I'll carry it.]
"Wait, it is came open." I tried to zip it up, but the zipper had been smashed. Oh well, not that it really mattered, but it was really nice of these people to even care about it.
"Hider, betynan fleat gelic fleat foldwig," [Here, close it like this,] one of them tied a few decorative strings together.
"Ealle riht? Leatan us gan." [Alright, lets go.]
"Look, I just really wanted to say thank you for saving my life." "Gif thu bethurfan to cunnan se foldweg to eanig lecgan ic magan to helpan thu. [If you need to know the way to any place, I can help you.] The chatty fellow was obviously very sure of the direction he was going in.
" Min feader agen se land abutan hider, forthy ic cunnan se land ful feagere. Beon in burg neah min ham . . . of for. We willan helpan thu to se burg. Thu forstandan. Burg. Neah."[My father owns the land around here, therefore I know the land around here very well. There is a town near my home . . . of course. We are willing to help you there. You understand? Town. Near.] I got the feeling that they had at least understood the important parts of me speech. The fellow had just made some humble comments most likely . . . something about just being in the area.
"I really will be indebted to you forever.
"Is butu eower feader land. He is min brother. Us. Brotheran." [It is both of our father's. He's my brother. Us. Brothers.] I smiled and nodded. It was strange, but I actually understood a few words when they said them very, very slowly. They just had a really strong accents. . . they were probably going to turn out to be unusual European tourist . . .
THE NOTES: Ok, I admit I have changed the thorn thingies to Ôth' and ¾ to Ôea' but that is because they show up as something else.
