The Great Alone by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online

actions. The youth yelled something, his tone seeming to warn her away. The nearest promyshlenik silenced him with a restrained clip of his musket butt alongside the head. The boy fell to the ground, dazed by the blow. Again, the old woman cried out and pressed a hand to her head as if she had felt the blow, then rushed toward the boy. Shekhurdin stopped her before she reached him and shoved her backwards.
    “Go!” He waved his hand, directing her to follow the other members of her fleeing band. She simply stared at him, taking no advantage of the opportunity he gave her to escape. “Go! Go with the others!” Impatience roughened his voice and made wild the swing of his arm. The old woman looked past him at the boy, then said something to Shekhurdin in that strange tongue and gestured toward the youth. “Stand him up and let her see that he isn’t hurt,” he commanded the men guarding the hostage. They hauled him to his feet and let him stand on his own. “You see,” Shekhurdin said to the old woman, accompanying his words with hand gestures in an attempt to make her understand him. “He is unharmed. Go tell your people that.”
    She stood silently, apparently comprehending nothing. Taking her by the shoulders, Shekhurdin turned her around and pushed her in the direction the natives had gone. The impetus carried her a few steps forward, but she stopped and turned back. Exasperated by her stupidity, the Cossack swung away from her and dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
    “Everyone move out,” he ordered.
    Before falling in line with the other promyshleniki, Luka took one last wary look at the old woman. He was inclined to believe she was being obstinate rather than stupid, although he didn’t know why he had that impression. Somehow he wasn’t surprised when she started following them.
    “Maybe she is his mother,” someone suggested.
    “She’s too old,” another insisted.
    Several times they tried to drive her off, but on each occasion she retreated a few steps and stopped, then started following when they resumed their march. Finally they simply ignored her, all except Luka. It made him uneasy to have a native behind him—even an old woman. She was still tagging along after them when they arrived at a stretch of coast where a boat could land. While they waited for the shitik to appear, she remained a little apart from them, always—it seemed to Luka—watching the youth. He guessed that she wanted to learn where they were taking him.
    When the shitik hove into view, Shekhurdin signaled for the boat. Luka was not included in the first boatload of promyshleniki to return to the vessel with the hostage, and he stood to one side while the young male was forced into the boat. When the old woman saw him getting into the wooden dinghy, she ran toward it.
    “Get away, you old fool!” Shekhurdin roughly pushed her backwards, and she stumbled onto the sand. Glaring at her, the Cossack took his position at the prow of the boat to accompany his hostage and gestured to the men remaining ashore to shove them off.
    The woman scrambled to her feet, but Luka caught her before she could run into the water after the dinghy. She jabbered something to him and pointed at the bare-masted shitik anchored offshore. He shook his head and firmly set her away from him, admonishing her to stay with his upraised hand. He noticed the determined set of her mouth, but she made no further attempt to go after the boat. He watched her for a minute, then satisfied it wasn’t some ploy, left her and wandered over to stand with the six other promyshleniki waiting for the dinghy’s return trip. While they discussed the excellent hunting prospects on the island, he kept an eye on the old woman.
    As the dinghy approached the beach again, Luka walked to the water’s edge to meet it. Its nose had barely entered shallow water when the old woman darted past him and scrambled into the boat before anyone could stop her. She plunked herself down