“Be patient, and your deliverance will come. There are plenty of things that may turn up. Keep a stiff upper lip, and keep friends with the redmen, at any rate, and especially with Miantonimo. He’s a regular trump, that boy is. He’s the first Indian I ever liked.”
“Yes, he’s a good fellow. I wish I understood his language, and could talk with him.”
“Try to learn; it will help you.”
A few words more, and the two white men left the Indian camp, and pursued their way westward.
Poor Tom followed them with longing eyes, and his heart was heavy within him.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THREE MONTHS IN CAPTIVITY.
EAGER as he was to leave his new associates, Tom was wise enough to understand that it must not be thought of at present. He must bide his time.
Meanwhile he must make himself as agreeable as possible to the young Indian whose friendly feeling had saved his life. Had Miantonimo still remained sick, he would have watched by his sick couch, but of this there was no need. A wonderful change had come over the boy. His sickness, whatever it was, seemed to have left him all at once. His strength rapidly returned, and he was able to resume his usual sports.
In these he always wanted Tom to participate, and the white boy was entirely willing. While he remained in captivity he must pass the time in some way, and none seemed more agreeable than to share the life and employments of Miantonimo.