Girl in a Buckskin

footsteps and the sharp hiss of breath as the boy saw the Indian. Now if this one had come alone, Blue Feather thought, the rifle would have been his by now. “The young one is like a squaw,” he told the paleface. “You would do better to travel alone.”
    A brief smile passed over the face of the man with the white scalp. “Perhaps,” he said. “Will you take us to your people?”
    Blue Feather’s eyes widened. “Take you to them?”
    “Aye, we come in peace.”
    Blue Feather studied the man thoughtfully. “Your hands are not like those of a man who comes in peace. Your hands are like the claws of a catamount.”
    “I thought you were an enemy instead of a friend. Now I know that you are a friend and my claws are sheathed.” Blue Feather smiled faintly. This man pleased him very much. “You have ears like an Indian. I would have stolen your gun.”
    “One would need the ears of an Indian to hear you.” Becky said breathlessly, “What are you saying to him, Eseck? Is he friendly?”
    “I think so,” Eseck told her without taking his eyes from Blue Feather. “He is a Mahican. His camp is near here. I have asked him to take us there.”
    Becky gasped. “Take us there? To the camp? Eseck, have you gone mad?”
    “Becky,” he said, “to live in the valley without the Indians knowing we are here we would have to be animals of the forest. The time has come to show them we are friends.”
    Becky had turned pale at his words. “Oh, Eseck,” she whispered, “I’m frightened. Must we?”
    He looked at her and she winced, knowing that he was measuring her, judging her strength and her pliability as he would judge the dependability of a young sapling out of which he would fashion his bow. “If you are afraid,” he said harshly, “you will show them you are afraid. And if you show them you are afraid they may kill us.”
    Miserably Becky nodded. “Very well,” she sighed, “I shall try to be brave. But if they kill us I hope they will first give us something hearty to eat, for my stomach groans at the thought of more nookick.”
     

Chapter Six
     
     
     
    AS THEY WALKED IN SINGLE FILE DOWN THE HILL ESECK’S glance ran swiftly over the Indian encampment. It was not large, perhaps no more than twenty dome-roofed wigwams spread out across the meadow along the river. It made a peaceful picture: the meadow was flat and green, with willows framing it along the river, and the wigwams had been pitched here and there with no attempt to form streets. His eye roamed the kitchen gardens and the fields and he saw food growing in abundance. At the head of the village stood a much larger rectangular building, built like the others of bark and hides, which he identified as the tribe’s council house. This village, then, was the chief’s castle.
    “Is it—all right?” Becky asked him anxiously, and he realized that she could not see it through his eyes; to her it was only a meaningless and terrifying pattern laid out before them.
    “It is all right,” he said. He did not tell her that even if they were enemies they would be treated with courtesy inside the village. He did not tell her lest she want to know what happened to enemies when they left the encampment. It would be up to him to convince these people that he and Becky were not enemies.
    They had been seen now, and smelt as well, for the inevitable cur dogs set up a frantic howling and yapping. Almost as soon as they reached the plateau a stream of dogs, women and children issued from nowhere to surround them. Eseck lifted his chin and continued his long stride to show Becky that he was not afraid. Stealing a quick glance he noted that she was pale but calm; as he watched he saw her nostrils dilate at the strong smell of the Indians and he hoped fervently the odor would not bring back any memories.
    Blue Feather bid them pause when they reached the council house. Opening the deerhide flap he signaled them to wait and disappeared inside. From the smoke that drifted lazily through the hole in the roof Eseck guessed the chiefs had gathered to spend the day in council.
    The waiting was the hardest. The women pressed close in curiosity, fingering their clothes and giggling over Eseck’s hair. At length Blue Feather reappeared and beckoned to them, and he and Becky were ushered into the lodge.
    It seemed dark inside after the brightness of the day. The air was thick with smoke and he heard Becky’s sharp intake of breath at the smell. To his own