countenance and making friends as he might. By such means he might allay suspicion and gain added liberty. And having reached this sensible decision, David closed his eyes and went to sleep.
When he awoke the sun was past the meridian and the shadows had begun to lengthen. The wigwam was hot and breathless and he was parched with thirst. At the entrance he almost stepped on a young Indian half asleep there, his naked body, heavily smeared with oil, glistening in the hot sunlight. He was a comely, well-proportioned youth, in age perhaps twenty, with a rather livelier expression than common to his people.
He grunted as David’s foot encountered him and looked up inquiringly. “What um want?” he asked.
“Water,” David answered. The Indian seemed not to know the word and so David said, “Nippe,” although not certain that it would be more successful, since the Nipmuck equivalent of “water” varied in different localities, as did many other words. But the youth understood and sprang to his moccasined feet.
“You come,” he said, and led the way
