The few girls who remained with Sonya continued talking. They were tense now, but wholly composed, beautiful, intelligent-looking girls, most of them a year or so older than Sonya, and very much the same type. Upon the left leg of each, just above the knee, was a broad metal band.
The girls now were ignoring me. But Sonya called Dolores and Alice over, and it was obvious they were welcomed.
I saw presently, some of the older women. With a few little girls among them, they came to the edge of the forest and stood timidly regarding us—infancy and age, common fugitives.
Alice was gesturing toward the sky. I turned. Off there in the starlight, in the direction we had come, was a lone bird flying. In a moment I could see its wings.
Sonya called something; and added to Alice, “A girl arriving from Kalima.”
The bird swooped in a great descending arc, a great white bird like those which had drawn our platform. Mounted upon its back was the figure of a girl, her arms clinging about its neck. It soared with poised wings, descended to the beach near us.
The girl leaped to the sand and called, “Sonya! Sonya!”
They talked in their own language; then Sonya whirled to me. Her face had gone white.
“Alta, this girl, lives very near Ren’s house in Kalima. I do not mean my home, his and mine. I mean that other house of his where you were living. Alta went there to see me.”
She was talking swiftly. Alice and Dolores drew me to one side; a common feeling of disaster was upon us all.