Time
always passes wearily to the watcher. It seemed an age to him ere the
sun slipped down behind the wilderness out of sight. At length,
however, the dusk of early evening enveloped the lodge, and shortly
after Quanonshet and Madokawandock came in, and dropping down fell
almost immediately asleep.
To expedite matters, Hans Vanderbum feigned slumber, but he kept one
eye upon the movements of his wife. He marked her listless, absent
air, and he could scarcely conceal his joy when she stretched herself
in front of the door, without speaking or ordering him to lie beside
her, as was her usual custom. Five minutes later, she was as
unconscious as though she were never to wake again. To make "assurance
doubly sure," he waited full half an hour without moving. Then he
raised his head, and called in a whisper to Miss Prescott:
"I say dere."
"Well! what is it?" she responded, rising.
"You ishn't ashleep bees you?"
"No, I am ready."
"Well, I guesses it bees purty near times."
"Are they all sound asleep--your Lily and children?"
"Yaw, dey's won't wake if you pound 'em."
"Would it not be best to take a look outside and see whether there is
any danger of our being discovered?"
"Yaw--I finks so."
In passing out, Hans trod upon the outstretched arm of his wife, but
her sleep was so sound that she did not awaken. The situation of the
lodge was such that all the Shawnees visible were upon one side of it,
so that the chances of discovery were comparatively slight, if the
least precaution was used.
Pages:
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128