and then climbing across some bare hill-top where the starlight showed David the form of the Indian ahead and from where he could vaguely sense the wooded valleys below them. The cooler air of early morning blew in their faces at such times, bringing a shiver even as it refreshed. For some reason, probably because there was no longer any necessity, they had not replaced the gag in the boy’s mouth, and he was able to breathe freely and even to talk, although talking was quickly discouraged. Just before dawn another halt was made and the Indians again produced corn from their pouches and gave David a handful of it to munch. Only once had he had water, and now he was thirsty again and said so.
Sequanawah grunted. “You come,” he said.
David followed to where, some forty yards away from their resting-place, the Indian stooped in the half-darkness and scraped at the leaves under a giant birch. Then he leaned his head down to the basin he had formed and David heard him drink. When the boy had also had his fill of the cool but brackish water, he followed the Indian back, and on the way he asked wonderingly:
