join them. As his eyes accustomed themselves to the change from daylight to gloom, David made out dimly that he was standing in a roomy cave. It appeared to be a half-dozen paces in width, more than the height of a man from floor to roof and of indeterminable depth. It was refreshingly cool down there. David’s companions seated themselves between him and the narrow passage that led upward and out, and through which the daylight entered subduedly, and stolidly filled their pipes. There being naught else to do, David likewise seated himself on the ground, finding a spot where the wall of rock provided a rest for his shoulders. The floor of the cave was dry, seeming to consist of the powdered particles of the granite ledge above, although, as he discovered after being seated awhile, there were occasional sharp fragrments of stone as well.
He wondered how long he would have to stay there. The thought that even now his father or others from his country might be no more than two miles distant filled him with discouragement and a sort of dull anger. They would be welcomed by the sachem and entertained with food and tobacco, and all their questioning would come to naught.
