knife was her only weapon. Its blade was of iron, the grip was
wound with hide and protected by a guard of three out-bowing strips
of flat iron, and upon the top of the hilt was a knob of gold.

I took in much of this in the few seconds during which we stood
facing each other, and I also observed another salient feature of
her appearance: she was frightfully dirty! Her face and limbs and
garment were streaked with mud and perspiration, and yet even so,
I felt that I had never looked upon so perfect and beautiful a
creature as she. Her figure beggars description, and equally so,
her face. Were I one of these writer-fellows, I should probably
say that her features were Grecian, but being neither a writer nor
a poet I can do her greater justice by saying that she combined all
of the finest lines that one sees in the typical American girl's
face rather than the pronounced sheeplike physiognomy of the
Greek goddess. No, even the dirt couldn't hide that fact; she was
beautiful beyond compare.

As we stood looking at each other, a slow smile came to her face,
parting her symmetrical lips and disclosing a row of strong white
teeth.

"Galu?" she asked with rising inflection.

And remembering that I read in Bowen's manuscript that Galu seemed
to indicate a higher type of man, I answered by pointing to myself
and repeating the word. Then she started off on a regular catechism,
if I could judge by her inflection, for I certainly understood no
word of what she said. All the time the girl kept glancing toward
the forest, and at last she touched my arm and pointed in that