serted and all the warriors were gathered near the center of the island, armed and freshly-painted. Of the number no more than thirty bore guns, the boy observed. Even as he began to sense what such activity indicated, the Indians moved away toward the swamp, led by one whose slim height and grace aroused the ghost of memory in his tired mind. Silently the warriors passed into the twilight of the swamp, a sinister train of dark bodies merging with the shadows of the reeds and bushes. The last faint pat of footsteps died away and an eerie stillness descended on the island. Occasionally a rustling sounded from the thicket beyond as a bird stirred or a prowling mink or weasel sought the morass. After a while a great frog began his gruff song. The light faded from the summer sky and coolness brought relief to the hot, aching body and parched mouth of the boy. Hope revived in his breast. That King Philip had spared him so long argued well, he believed, for ultimate freedom. He doubted not that the fagots at his feet would have been lighted had not some diversion, dimly recalled, interrupted the sachem’s intent. The departure of the company, armed and in war-paint, could mean but one thing,
