faced one who solved the difficulty of intercourse by lapsing into what passed for English with him.
“No talk um talk. Where um go?”
“I go Brookfield. Which way um, brother?”
“What for um go Brookfield? ”
“I take message to English from my sachem.”
“Where um message?” The savage held out a hand imperiously.
David shook his head and pointed to his forehead. “In here,” he replied. Then he pointed down the path. “Brookfield this way?” he asked.
The other bowed, but shot a suspicious and scowling look from under his brows. David took a long breath and stepped forward.
“Farewell, brothers.”
Mutters were their only response. David swung on, a prickly sensation along his spine. That he had fooled them into thinking him a Wachoosett Indian scarcely seemed possible. Indeed, the uglier of the two had plainly been incredulous from the first. But, after a dozen paces, he began to hope, and he was congratulating himself when there was a
