She hoisted herself up carefully fr

She hoisted herself up carefully from the earth. At her age she need be afraid of nothing. She had lived a good, long life. She could, she decided, go and see what it was. So, leaning on her bamboo pipe, she mad her way slowly across the fields. Behind her in the sudden stillness, two or three village dogs appeared and followed, creeping close to her in their terror. When they drew near to the fallen plane, they barked furiously. Then she hit them with her pipe.
“Be quiet!” she scolded, “there’s already been noise enough to split my ears!”
She tapped the airplane.
“Metal,” she told the dogs. “Silver, doubtless,” she added. Melted down, it would make them all rich.
She walked around, examining it closely. What made it fly? It seemed dead. Nothing moved or made a sound within it. Then, coming to the side to which it was tipped, she saw a young man in it. He was in a heap in a little seat. The dogs growled, but she struck at them again, and they fell back.
“Are you dead?” she inquired politely.
The young man moved a little at her voice but did not speak. She drew nearer and peered into the hole in which he sat. His side was bleeding.