"Neowage? Where is he?"
They found him squatted in the grass outside, with too much delicacy of feeling to obtrude himself upon the family in their grief.
Joshua Peniman grasped his hand in silence, unable to speak. In silence the Indian returned the pressure.
When he had greeted the family with his impassive "How," and had eaten the meal which the weeping Ruth provided for him, he lay down before the fire and gazed thoughtfully into its depths. Hannah Peniman had gone away into the night alone, Ruth had taken Nina away to bed, and Joshua Peniman sat with his arms on the table and his head bowed upon them, a prey to the agony and despair of losing an eldest and best-beloved son.
Suddenly Neowage looked up.
"Nee-ah-nah no see him die!"
Mr. Peniman raised his head, and his gentle face was seamed and seared as if a dozen years had gone over it.
"No, but I fear it is as she said. Joe would have been home before this if he was alive."
"Sho no dead!"
Again Neowage relapsed into silence, smoking his pipe and gazing steadily into the fire. Presently he rose, gathered his blanket about him, and shaking his host's hand solemnly strode forth into the night.