"Dixie Lee McKeone - Tales of Uncle Trapspringer" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKeone Dixie Lee)

inland. They were on the western shore of the continent, so most of the cities would be to the east. A day
later they found a high road that angled in a northeasterly direction. Correctly guessing it led to a city, they
followed it until the soldiers attacked.
"I know," Ripple brightened, slipped her pack off her shoulders and rummaged in the depths. "We'll
change clothes so the soldiers won't recognize us, and we'll wear these," she pulled out two crumpled hats
with tall crowns and floppy brims.
"You're determined to take a bath and change clothes," Trap laughed, though he had no objection. It had
taken them five days to amble the sixty miles from the shore to their present location. They had stopped
frequently, inspecting the local flora, animals and anything else that interested them. The afternoons had
been hot and his skin was sticky with sweat.
An hour and a half later, Trap stood with his feet wide apart and his hands braced on his knees as he
leaned forward. Strands of his long, dark brown hair, freshly washed and nearly dry, moved in the light breeze.
His sister caught it and twisted it into a smooth roll, then she expertly flipped it into a loop close to his head.
Using one slim finger, she pulled the coil through the loop. With a gentle jerk, strong enough to set the hair,
but not hard enough to cause Trap any pain, she tightened the top knot.
Many kender used thongs, cords, metal rings and other devices to manage their long hair, and in Hylo
some cut it short to be rid of the bother. The Fargo family had always adhered to the ancient custom of the
actual knot at the exact center of the crown. When Trap stood, the ends fell just to the nape of his neck.
Ripple leaned forward and he tied her much longer hair. Then he caught up the blond ponytail and flipped it
around his finger. When he let it go it fell in one shining curl that reached her waist. But no one would be
seeing that thick, shining tress for a while. She leaned sideways, caught it in the crown of the hat and seated
the headgear firmly on her head, hiding both the topknot and her pointed ears.
The hats had been a parting gift from their uncle, Skipout Fargo, and he had given them cryptic
instructions to go with the headgear. Obeying the advice of Uncle Skipout, Trapspringer wrapped his bedding
around the forked end of his hoopak and attached his pack to it. Ripple did the same with her whippik. When
they were finished, Trap surveyed the result and shook his head.
"Gee, we don't look like ourselves," he complained when they were ready. With their top knots and ears
hidden and their weapons camouflaged, they resembled slender twelve-year-old human children.
"I think it's what Uncle Skipout intended," Ripple said.
"I can't think why." Trapspringer murmured with a frown, but when an idea struck him his face lit with a
smile. "Maybe humans like kender to look like them."
"I see, we're doing it to be friendly! I like that," Ripple said, nodding her approval. "Remember what father
said."
As she took a step away from the log a low branch nearly dislodged her hat. She leaned her whippik
against the tree, readjusted her headgear, and as she reached for her camouflaged weapon, noticed a small,
interesting flower: a pink puff on a short stem.
"What did father say?" asked Trapspringer, who had been gazing into the bushes where a rustle had given
evidence of a hiding animal. He decided he had been mistaken and had picked up the thread of the
conversation.
"It's very pretty."
"Father said your hat was pretty?"
Ripple looked from the flower to her brother and said, "Did he ever see my hat?"
Brother and sister exchanged smiles and shouldered their weapons and packs. The typical kender
conversation flowed along a serpentine course with eddies of unrelated but interesting sidelights. To a human,
the entire point of the conversation would be quickly lost, but since the kender seldom wanted to make any
point they were usually satisfied.
"I hope the soldiers aren't mad at us anymore," Ripple said as she stepped over a log.
"They made a mistake, and when they realize it they'll be sorry," Trapspringer said. "We shouldn't be
angry about it, it could happen to anyone. I know they'll apologize, but right now, I think we should keep to
the woods as long as we can."