"Surely, boy, thou canst not so soon have forgotten the gift I bought,
with the hard earnings of a wheel that turned at night. The tail of
yon peacock is not finer than thou then wast--But I will make thee
such another garment, that thou mayst go with the trainers to their
weekly muster."
The youth dropped the robe of skin that covered the upper part of his
body, and making a forward gesture, with the gravity of an Indian, he
answered--
"Whittal is a warrior on his path; he has no time for the talk of
the women!"
"Now, brother, thou forgettest the manner in which I was wont to feed thy
hunger, as the frost pinched thee, in the cold mornings, and at the hour
when the kine needed thy care; else thou wouldst not call me woman."
"Hast ever been on the trail of a Pequot? Know'st how to whoop
among the men?"
"What is an Indian whoop, to the bleating of thy flocks, or the bellowing
of cattle in the bushes? Thou rememberest the sound of the bells, as they
tinkled among the second growth of an evening?"
The ancient herdsman turned his head, and seemed to lend his attention, as
a dog listens to an approaching footstep.
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