“What are they saying, Braxton?” he asked.

“I can’t catch it very well,” replied Wyatt, “but I think they are talking about a stay near the Ohio—­for hunting, I suppose.  That ought to be a good thing for us, because they certainly will not decide about our fate until we get back to their village, and the more they are used to us the less likely they are to put us to death.”

Paul watched the warriors eating, and they were more repellent to him than ever.  Savages they were, and nothing could make them anything else.  His ways could never become their ways.  But the fresh deer meat looked very good, and the pleasant aroma filled his nostrils.  Braxton Wyatt noticed his face.

“Are you hungry, Paul?” he asked.

“No, not hungry; merely starving to death.”

Wyatt laughed.

“I’m in the same condition,” he said, “but I can soon change it.”

He spoke to Red Eagle, and the thin-faced chief nodded.  Then Braxton picked up two sharpened sticks that the savages had used, and also two large pieces of venison.  One stick and one piece he handed to Paul.

“Now we also will cook and dine,” he said.

Paul’s heart warmed toward Braxton Wyatt.  Certainly he had done him wrong in his thoughts when they lived at Wareville.  But he was thinking the next moment about the pleasant odor of the deer meat as he fried it over the coals.  Then he ate hungrily, and with a full stomach came peace for the present, and confidence in the future.  He slept heavily that night, stretched on the ground before the fire, near Braxton Wyatt, and he did not awaken until late the next morning.

The Indians were very slow and leisurely about departing, and Paul realized now that, vigilant and wonderful as they were in action, they were slothful and careless when not on the war path, or busy with the chase.  He saw, also, that the band was entirely too strong to be attacked by Henry and his friends.

They marched northward several days more, at the same dawdling pace, and then they stopped a week at one place for the hunting.  Half the warriors would go into the forest, and the next day the other half would go, the first remaining.  They brought in an abundance of game, and Paul never before saw men eat as they ate.  It seemed to him that they must be trying to atone for a fast of at least six months, and those who were not hunting that day would lie around the fire for hours like animals digesting their food.  He and Braxton Wyatt were still treated well, and their hands remained unbound, although they were never allowed to leave the group of warriors.

Paul was glad enough of the rest and delay, but the life of the Shawnees did not please him.  He was too fastidious by nature to like their alternate fits of laziness and energy, their gluttony and lethargy afterwards, but he took care not to show his repulsion.  He acted upon Wyatt’s advice, and behaved in the friendliest manner that he could assume toward his captors.  Wyatt once spoke his approval.  “The Chief, Red Eagle, thinks of adopting you, if you should fall into their ways,” said Wyatt.