other matter from his mind for the time, yet, when he had heartily thanked the Indian and had examined the weapon from tip to tip, twanging the cord and experimentally fitting the notch of a stone-tipped arrow to it, he recalled his quandary and drew Sequanawah’s attention to them.
The Indian viewed the dilapidated garments gravely, finally grunting: “No good. Take um off.”
“Aye, but what shall I put on instead?” asked David.
Sequanawah suggested a costume like his own, a loin-cloth wound about his middle, one end falling in front and one behind. But David shook his head dubiously, and after a moment of thought the Indian grunted again and made off. When he returned he brought a pair of deer-hide breeches such as were worn in winter. Where he had obtained them David did not know, for they were far too short for Sequanawah, but fitted the boy well enough. In exchange the Indian took the discarded breeches, from which he gleefully cut the two buckles. These, a few days later, David discovered dangling from a string of wampum about Sequanawah’s neck.
Each day thereafter David practiced with
