“Look at the door. The sun has long been behind the trees.”
“Have I slept all day?”
“Perhaps.”
“And have you heard no sound of battle?”
“It has been still as the village street during mass.”
“What, then, have they done, those English? They must have taken the fort without firing a gun. And the Sioux—you have not seen him?”
“Nothing has passed the cave door, not even a chipmunk.”
He stretched his arms upward into the hollow, standing tall and well made, his buckskin shirt turned back from his neck.
“I am again hungry.”