Frequently as the lad had passed the very place into which he had crawled that night, it had never occurred to him that it was anything more than a hole in the rocks that formed the bank of the "run," and his surprise was therefore the greater at the sight before him. The spot was considerably above the bed of the stream, and consequently was comparatively dry. Straw and dry leaves lay scattered about over the floor, and the sheltered place apparently was safe from all approach or danger.
Indian John at once indicated to his companion that he was to pass the night there, and the weary lad was glad to accept the invitation, and soon stretched himself upon the bed of straw. The light of the candle was extinguished, and the Indian then speedily followed the example of Peter. The sounds of the running brook came faintly to the ears of the troubled lad, but that was all he could hear. The darkness was intense, and for a time the fear of other occupants of various kinds prevented Peter from sleeping, but at last even that was forgotten in the dreamless sleep that followed.
When he awoke, Little Peter at first could not determine where he was, but as the outlines of the cave were seen in the dim light which penetrated it, the experiences of the preceding day were recalled, and he quickly arose. Indian John was not in the cave, however, and as the lad now was aware that the morning had come, he hastily crawled through the passageway that led to the bank.
As he regained the bank, he saw that his companion was busily engaged in roasting some birds he had shot. The sight was a welcome one, for Peter was now aware of the fact that he was decidedly hungry, and, following his companion's advice, he departed in search of some berries to add to the morning meal. In the course of a half hour he returned with his hat well filled, and, after bathing his hands and face in the cool waters of the brook, prepared at once to join his companion.
For a few minutes neither spoke, but the rapid manner in which the roasted birds disappeared showed that conversation was not uppermost in their minds.
At last, when several of the birds had been eaten, and many of the berries had disappeared, Indian John turned to his companion and said, "Boy want 'hop-hop' now? Plenty 'hop-hop.' Make um good."
"No, no," replied Peter quickly. "The birds are enough. Where did you get them, John?"
"Shoot um. Plenty birds; plenty 'hop-hop.'"
"You must have been up early this morning, John. I didn't hear you."
The Indian made no reply and remained silent for several minutes. Then, turning abruptly and looking keenly at Peter, he said, "What boy do now?"