knew that he was stationed on the first rise of the little hill that began at the thicket’s edge. It seemed that the first of the two had already forgotten David’s existence. Perhaps he was under the belief that the captive had returned with the squaws. In any case, it appeared to David that the Indian was no more concerned with him and that he did not suspect his presence in the thicket.
With a little thrill of excitement the boy lowered himself quietly to the ground, brushing aside all twigs that might break and give alarm. He forgot to be chilly, forgot even the smarting and burning and itching of his back and shoulders, for the prospect of making his escape filled him with an exultation that warmed his heart and filled his thoughts.
Quickly the twilight came, for the forest soon shut off the last rays of the sinking sun. From the wigwams came the murmur of voices, the snarling of dogs, the crackling of evening fires. A breath of wind crept down the hillside and rustled the leaves about him. It brought the fragrance of burning wood and of cooking food and reminded him that he was hungry. But hunger was such a small matter now that he only smiled grimly and strove to be patient while the dusk changed
