He pointed with his
staff to the pump house, and to the semicircle of still motionless
villagers. He pointed to the fields, and back to the people, and to
the pump house again, gesturing vehemently with his other hand.
_You make the noise. My people will not work while they hear it.
The fields lie untended. Stop the noise, and let my people work._
Couldn't possibly be any plainer.
Then the pump started again. The Lord Mayor's hands tightened on the
staff; he was struggling tormentedly with himself, in vain. His face
relaxed into the heartbroken expression of joy; he turned and
shuffled over, dropping onto his haunches with the others.
"Shut down the pump, Dave!" Meillard called out. "Cut the power off."
The _thugg-thugg_-ing stopped. The Lord Mayor rose, made an odd
salaamlike bow toward the Terrans, and then turned on the people,
striking with his staff and shrieking at them. A few got to their
feet and joined him, screaming, pushing, tugging. Others joined.
In a little while, they were all on their feet, straggling away
across the fields.
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