Now it was at the foot of the pine that Eepersip
usually stooped over to drink, because there
the water was deeper and clearer. When Eepersip
came up the bank, she stared curiously at the ten,
thinking: "What! are my parents still here?"
Then on she went to the pool. She approached it
in a roundabout direction, her face drawn with
suspicion; but, as usual, her route ended at the
gnarled roots of the big pine--no instinct could
draw her away from it.
Mr. Eigleen stirred the leaves gently as she bent over. She lay down flat by the tree, cupped her hands, and began to drink. Very quietly Mr. Eigleen put his hands on her, one on either shoulder, knowing that her dress of ferns would tear. She started, and struggled so violently that his hands relaxed their grip on her shoulders, sliding down her arms, so that they were now hand in hand. That was all Eepersip needed. With a tremendous sweep she took her feet off the ground, dragging down on his arms with all her weight and strength. Mr. Eigleen couldn't relax either of his hands, for she now held them fast. With another sweep she put her feet up on his shoulders and over his head; then, wrenching her own hands free, she slid down his back and slipped before he could seize her.
