"I want that punt," he bellowed at her.
"You got plenty punt; me go in house," she replied stoically.
There were, indeed, three or four punts tied to the shore near by.
"Hold on, there," he commanded, "or it'll go bad for you! I want that punt, there, understand?"
"Then get that punt there," she said indifferently.
"You damned old hag," he screamed, now quite beside himself, "one of your rotten tribe's in that lookout tower, d'you understand? If you don't bring that punt across I'll have him crucified before your eyes! Hear me, hag?"
"All right," she said quietly. "Him no 'count; do him good."
She turned back to pass through the door, but was stopped by some one coming out. Sylvia! Never more beautiful than now! Echochee put up both arms to stop her and I noticed—for in tense moments one's eyes retain some of the most insignificant details—how incongruously her brown old bony fingers sank into the dainty folds of her lady's morning gown. But Sylvia would not be stopped. She placed a hand on the woman's shoulder and spoke a few hurried words, then raised her head and looked imperiously at the men, saying:
"You shan't hurt any one because Echochee obeys me. Is the punt all you want?"
Jess moved uneasily, but there was no trace of embarrassment in the bearing of Efaw Kotee.