“He talks anything, including United States!” declared Ned, with a laugh, though the situation was anything but funny. The scowling Yellow Gypsies seemed bent on mischief—as though they resented the coming of the airship.
Peltok took his position at one of the windows, held up his hands for silence, which came grudgingly from the nomads, and began to address them. His words had a peculiar snarling quality.
But what he said seemed to be understood, for there were murmurs among the men as though they were about to make reply. Peltok continued, speaking more rapidly and emphatically.
“What are you telling them?” asked Tom when the interpreter paused for breath.
“I had to romance a little,” was the answer. “I said we were strangers from the stars who had come to visit our earthly friends.”
“Will they believe you?” asked Tom.
“I don’t know,” was the doubtful reply. “They don’t seem to think I am telling the truth. I tried to impress them with our supernatural origin. I’m sure they never saw an aeroplane before and know nothing about it. But if we could impress them in some way and make them believe we are supernatural characters we might get them to withdraw. I’ll try it again.”
Once more he addressed the Yellow Gypsies, but did not seem to be making much of an impression. They hooted and cried sneeringly and more than one shook a gun or a knife at Peltok.
“What are they saying?” asked Tom.
“They say they don’t believe me. They say we look just like themselves except for color, and they think this is only a new kind of railroad train, which of course they are more or less familiar with. I’m afraid they’re going to rush us.”