you were not of our people, David. Very brave and beautiful you look.”
“Do I so?” asked the boy dryly. “Yet methinks I prefer my own skin better. However, an it pleases you and will some day disappear, I mind not. What now?”
“The sachem sends you these.”
“What! That thing? Nay, I will not go about the world naked for Metipom or any one! And so you may say to him!”
But in the end, mindful of Monapikot’s advice, he donned the costume provided; loin-cloth, belt, moccasins, and necklet. All were of the best and much ornamented with quills and wampum. As for the moccasins, he was glad enough to have them, for his shoes had long since worn through at sides and bottoms and provided scant protection for his feet. John grew every minute more proud of the miracle he was working and must momentarily pause to admire and praise. And when David thought all complete, and viewed his brown nakedness with a mixture of shame and interest, John produced white and blue pigments and, with the absorption of an artist before his canvas, traced meaningless lines and figures on the boy’s chest and face. Then, with David
