his they entered: and, to the surprise
of Arundel, the Indian, after throwing down a few skins for seats,
began leisurely to prepare a meal. He lighted a fire outside of the
lodge, which, of course, threw a light all around, and served to guide
the steps of any wanderers, whether friends or prowling enemies; and
waiting until the wood was reduced to glowing coals, threw upon them
pieces of meat, whose pleasant odor soon pervaded the atmosphere. The
confident bearing of the Indian had, by this time, produced such an
effect upon Arundel, that he did not even ask him why he so
unnecessarily exposed the place of his retreat, but partook of the
viands from the coals, and of the parched corn, which his host
produced from the wigwam, with a hearty appetite. His entertainer
observed his execution upon the meal with marked satisfaction; and,
upon its conclusion, presented him with a pipe, and, taking one
himself, was soon under its soothing influence. Arundel, unaccustomed
to the use of tobacco, could only inspire a few whiffs, out of
compliment to the other, and then sat watching him. The fire light
shone full upon the face of the bronze statue--"the stoic of the
woods, the man without a tear"--before him, but no ferocity was
discoverable in its lineaments. It seemed impossible to suppose that
thoughts of bloodshed were passing at that moment through the mind of
the handsome youth, dreamily closing and opening his eyes, as the
clouds from the pipe floated away over his head, apparently
unconscious of danger, intending no ill to others, and not
anticipating it for himself.

After smoking his pipe, the Indian, instead of extinguishing the fire,
threw additional wood, in considerable quantities, upon it; thereby
still further increasing the wonder of Arundel. He next invited the
guest into the wigwam, and heaping up several skins in a corner for a
couch, said, that he was about to be absent for a short time, but that
his brother might sleep meanwhile in perfect security. With these
words the Pequot departed, leaving the young man reclined upon his
bed, but not to slumber.

Sassacus was gone, it might be an hour, and on his return he threw
himself upon the ground; and, in a short time, as was evident from his
breathing, was asleep. Arundel could not understand how any one, who
was anticipating an attack from enemies from whom he could expect no
mercy, was able to rest so calmly. Had he entrusted the keeping of his
life--for in a