In the centre
a fire was burning and an Indian woman was leaning over it stirring
the contents of a kettle. On the opposite side of the fire from her
sat a young Indian maiden of about Bob's own age netting the babiche
in a snow-shoe, her fingers plying deftly in and out. The woman and
girl wore deerskin garments of peculiar design. The former was fat and
ugly, the latter slender, and very comely, he thought, from her sleek
black hair to her feet encased in daintily worked little moccasins. At
that moment she glanced towards him and said something to her
companion, who turned in his direction also.
"Where am I?" he asked wonderingly and with some alarm.
They both laughed and jabbered then in their Indian tongue but he
could not understand a word they said. The girl lay aside the
snow-shoe and babiche and, taking up a tin cup, dipped some hot broth
from the kettle and offered it to him. He accepted it gladly for he
was thirsty and felt unaccountably weak. The broth contained no salt
or flavouring of any kind, but was very refreshing. When he had
finished it he put the cup down and attempted to rise but this
movement brought forth a flood of Indian expostulations and he was
forced to lie quiet again.
It was very evident that he was either considered an invalid too ill
to move or was held in bondage.
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