face of the
chief the trace of a sardonic grin. Then he looked at the weazened and
repulsive old pair.

"Put me to the torture," he said.

Now the sardonic grin was unmistakable on die face of the chief.

"Not yet," he said, "but maybe later."

Then he and the old pair left the hut, and presently food was brought to
Paul, who, worn out by his trials, ceased to think about his future. When
he had finished eating he threw himself on the couch again, and slept
heavily until the next day.

CHAPTER IX

A CHANGE OF PLACES

Now came a time which Paul did not wholly understand, but which seemed to
him a period of test. The repulse of the old couple was not permanent.
They came back again and again, inviting him to be their son, and
patiently endured all his rebuffs until he began to feel a kind of pity
for them. After that he was always gentle to them, but he remained firm in
his resolve that he would not become a savage, either in reality or
pretense.

After a week he was allowed to walk in the village and to look upon
barbaric life, but he saw not the remotest chance of escape. The place
contained perhaps five hundred souls--men, women, children, and
papooses--and at least fifty mangy curs, every one of whom, including the
papooses and curs, seemed to Paul to be watching him. Black eyes followed
him everywhere. Nothing that he did escaped their attention. Every step
was noted, and he knew that if he went a yard beyond the village he would
bring a throng of warriors, squaws, and dogs upon him. But he was grateful
for this bit of freedom, the escape from the confinement of close walls,
and the forest about them, glowing with autumnal foliage, looked cool and
inviting. He saw nothing of Braxton Wyatt, but Red Eagle told him one day
that he had gone northward with a band, hunting. "He good boy," said Red
Eagle. Paul shuddered with disgust.

More than two weeks passed thus, and it seemed to Paul that he was not
only lost to his own world, but forgotten by it. Kentucky and all his
friends had dipped down under the horizon, and would never reappear. Henry
and Ross and Shif'less Sol would certainly have come for him if they
could, but perhaps they had fallen, slain in the night battle. His heart
stood still at the thought, but he resolutely put it away. It did not seem
to him that one of such strength and skill as Henry Ware could be killed.

Paul sat on a rock about the twilight hour one day, and watched the sun