inside with the manner of one paying a visit of ceremony. Gravely David offered hospitality.
“Will you eat meat?” he asked.
Sequanawah shook his head. “Me full.”
In that case, as David knew, he should offer pipe and tobacco. Not having either, however, he smiled and pointed to the pouch that hung at the Indian’s girdle. “You smoke,” he said.
Sequanawah bowed and drew pipe and pouch to his knees and filled his bowl gravely and in silence. That done, he searched in the blackened embers of the fire and presently brought forth a tiny coal that showed a gray ash. On this he breathed gently. The flakey ash disappeared and gradually a glow of fire took its place. To David the performance smacked of the miraculous, for he would have sworn that the ember was as dead as any that Sequanawah had cast aside. When his pipe was lighted, the Wachoosett smoked for a minute in silence, his dark eyes fixed on the ground. Then he laid the pipe beside him and spoke.
“Um well?” he asked.
“Aye, brother.”
The Indian nodded as with satisfaction.
