David moved away and, observing that the Indian did not accompany him, said, “You come.” The young brave bowed and fell in behind. “What name you?” David asked.
“John.”
“John? Have you no Indian name?” The other seemed not to understand the question, and later David found that his attendant’s knowledge of English was very limited. “You got more name?” he asked.
“Me John,” repeated the Indian.
“John—what?”
The other shook his head and David gave up.
The village was quiet, even the dogs being for the most part fast asleep in the shade of the wigwams. Here and there a squaw or a maiden sat at the entrance of a lodge preparing food or working with cloth or buckskin. Few men were in sight, for the Indians chose to sleep in the heat of the day, or, failing sleep, to lie still within the wigwams and smoke their pipes. As he made a circuit of the village, David observed well. He judged that the ground within the palisade might well be an acre and a half in extent. It did not form any approach to a true circle, but adjusted itself to the shape
