“Little profit there will be in that,” said Obid dourly, “with fivescore savages but five miles distant and the country full of wandering marauders! For my part, I tell you, ’twill be a relief to me when my scalp be well dangling from an Indian belt and I have no longer to worry about the matter.”
“Waban, at Natick, is a firm friend of the English,” replied David stoutly. “There is naught to fear from there. Nor do I believe that any Nipmuck will take arms against us. Indeed, an I am to see fighting, I must, methinks, move up the river to Dedham or join the Plymouth men.”
“Do not jest, David,” counseled his father. “It may be that you will find more fighting than will suit your stomach.”
“Meanwhile,” answered the boy gayly, “here is what suits my stomach very well. ’Twould be a monstrous pity to scalp you, Obid, so long as you can make such stew as this! ”
A week went by, during which the corn sprouted finely, coaxed upward by gentle rains that came at night and vanished with the sun. There was plenty of work in field and garden and David had scant time for play. Yet he found opportunity to fish in
