Tom was very glad to have the work, for the time forgetting his wounds and humiliation, and hoped that through it he would regain his freedom. When the evening came, the work had advanced more than the slaves could have accomplished in weeks; when they had finished, they led Tom back to prison.
On the way, he saw a group of fighters joyously returning. They brought with them many white chrysalises, which the slaves at once took to the nest as if they were their own. The last comers brought grains and immediately all began to feast, the slaves as usual bringing them food, until they could eat no more.
Tom knew that, somewhere, they had robbed a Black nest and compensated themselves for their recent defeat. He was sorry that he, too, was their slave and obliged to serve them like his black comrades, but he did not see any other way, if he hoped to escape from their clutches.
Next day, he continued his building and the Redheads were greatly surprised, for they had never seen such construction. Then they began to show him a little consideration, feeding him well, but not allowing him to go out of the nest. Five or six fighting men never left his side. But Tom thought out a clever plan. He began to look for large, heavy branches, showing them that it was necessary to have strong, heavy pillars, in place of the thin spines. The Redheads at once sent out the slaves, but they could not drag such heavy beams into the nest. Then they sent Tom with a guard into the wood to select his own beams and bring them back. He purposely went very far and kept looking about, as if he could not find anything quite suitable.
The guards followed him patiently and did not leave him a moment. There was no idea of flight on Tom's part. He noticed that the appearance of nature had changed. Blossoms had disappeared, the grass was dry and yellow, the heather was rustling and through the wood a mist was blowing. It was cold, and Little Tom was very uncomfortable in his torn dress.