“’Twas set,” replied Nathan Lindall grimly. “Indians were seen skulking about the woods late in the afternoon, and ’tis thought they were some that have set up their wigwams above the Beaver Pond since autumn.”
“But why, sir? ”
“I know not, save that Master Vernham tells me that of late they have shown much insolence and have frequently come to his house begging for food and cloth. At first he gave, but soon their importunity wearied him and he refused. They are, he says, a povern and worthless lot; renegade Mohegans he thinks. But dress yourself, lad, and be about your duties.”
Shortly after the midday meal, Nathan Lindall and Obid again set forth, this time taking the Sudbury path, and David, left to his own devices, finished the ploughing of the south field which was later to be sown to corn, and then, unyoking the oxen and returning them to the barn, he took his gun and made his way along the little brook toward the swamp woods. The afternoon, half gone, was warm and still, and a bluish haze lay over the distant hills to the south-east. A rabbit sprang up from almost be-
