to the squaw. When he returned he said, “Squaw say ‘pequas.’”
“Pequas” meant fox, and David considered the matter for a minute. He had heard of foxes being eaten by the Indians: even on occasion by the English settlers, though not from choice; but it seemed to him that to have turned up his nose at dog-meat and now approve of fox-meat was foolish, for, save that one ran wild and other was tame, there could be little to choose between them. As a result of his cogitation, he ate little supper, for the half-boiled beans were both few and wretched. John ate the meat without demur.
Later they talked again as the darkness crept up the mountain and the scattered fires made orange-hued glows about the village. The talk was halting, however, and difficult, and before long David went to his hard couch and John, drawing his skin cloak about his bronze shoulders, squatted without the doorway and smoked. David’s thoughts that night were wistful of home and his father, but not for long since sleep soon came to his still wearied body.
