Page:Barbour--Metipoms Hostage.djvu/172

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158
METIPOM’S HOSTAGE

seated himself in the shade of the wigwam. John took himself off to his own lodge presently.

Many fires were burning and the village was hazy with the smoke of them. At a little distance, beside the log barrier, a knot of older boys were throwing flat stones at a stake driven into the earth, and their cries came to him shrilly. The sun was sinking behind a shoulder of the great hill and its slanting rays filled the world with a soft amber radiance. It was a fair and peaceful scene, yet David had never felt more lonely and homesick. The ancient squaw came to the entrance and signed that his food was ready, and he went in to it, though with little appetite. As he nibbled at the stewed meat and beans, he wondered why the sachem had not summoned him for punishment, and wondered what the punishment would be. Yet no summons came, and he went early to sleep, both because he was still weary and because he wished to forget his loneliness. Outside, his jailer sat silent in his blanket and blew clouds of smoke at the star-sprinkled sky.