CHAPTER XXXVII.
MARYA.
Colina drew near the girl, pausing as if casually interested in her work. She was a fat girl, with a peculiarly good-humored expression, and evinced no awe at Colina's approach, but unaffected delight.
Colina obeyed an inward suggestion, sent Cora back to the Grampierres, and sat down beside Marya, determined to take plenty of time to establish friendly relations.
This was not difficult. The plump, copper-skinned maiden was overjoyed by the opportunity to examine anything so wonderful as a white girl at close range.
No part of Colina's person or attire escaped her scrutiny. Marya stroked her with a soft crooning. The fastidious Colina bore it, smiling. At the throat of her waist Colina was wearing a topaz-pin, to which the Indian girl's eyes ever returned, dazzled.
Colina finally took it off, and pinned it in Marya's cotton dress. Marya gave way to an extravagant pantomime of joy. Bowing her head, she seized Colina's hand, and pressed it to her forehead.
Meanwhile they exchanged such simple remarks as lent themselves to the medium of signs. Colina finally ventured to pronounce the name "Nesis" at the same time asking by a sign which included the teepees if she was there.
Marya looked startled. She hesitated, but Colina's hold was now strong upon her. She shook her head. First glancing cautiously around to make sure they were not observed, she nodded in the direction of up river.
By simple signs she told Colina that Nesis was in a village (crossed fingers for teepees) beside a lake (a wide sweep, and an agitated, flattened hand for shimmering water), and that it could be reached by a journey with one sleep upon the way. (Here she paddled an imaginary canoe, stopped, closed her eyes, inclined her head on her shoulder and held up one finger.)