recitation of boastful legends and vain threatenings, left him cold. To the Anglo-Saxon mind there was something akin to lunacy in such doings.
David wondered if Monapikot and his two unpleasing companions had left on their homeward journey. It seemed likely, although once, near the middle of the evening, he had thought that he had glimpsed the tall, straight form of the Pegan against the firelight. That Pikot should go without a few words of speech with him seemed strange. It would not have been impossible for the Indian to have spoken briefly under some pretext, and David felt resentful and sad because he had not done so. To-night it became easy once more to believe that his old friend had indeed turned traitor.
John had deserted his charge utterly and was prancing and bending and howling about the fire. Sequanawah had vanished, but whether he had left the village David did not know. Thoughts of escape came to him and he weighed the chances of success. Many times he had wondered whether by scaling the palisade wall he could evade the watchfulness of the sentries. Reaching the top of the wall would be no easy feat, for
