Because he heard us talking English he
insisted on regarding us as English spies.
"Hark! they betray themselves," we heard him mutter thickly to one of
his wounded countrymen in the next compartment. "They are damned
Englishers."
"Nein! Nein! All Americans," we heard the other say.
"Well, if they are Americans, why don't they talk the American language
then?" he demanded. Hearing this, I was sorry I had neglected in my
youth to learn Choctaw.
Still dubious of us, he came now and stood in the aisle, rocking
slightly on his bolster legs and eying us glassily. Eventually a
thought pierced the fog of his understanding. He hauled his saber out
of its scabbard and invited us to run our fingers along the edge and see
how keen and sharp it was. He added, with appropriate gestures, that he
had honed it with the particular intent of slicing off a few English
heads. For one, and speaking for one only, I may say I was, on the
whole, rather glad when he departed from among us.
When we grew tired of watching the troop trains streaming south we
fought the flies, and listened for perhaps the tenth time to the story
of Stevens' experience when he first fell into German hands, six days
before.
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