imitation of birds. Belts of wampompeag encircled the arms above
the elbow, and fell over the robe, hanging down the shoulders. The
preparation was completed by painting the cheeks and forehead
vermillion. Thus decorated, with bow in hand, an ornamented quiver on
his back, and tomahawk in girdle, Waqua considered himself fit to be
presented at any court in the world.

Nor when he advanced, conscious of the improvement in his appearance,
and stepping as though he were lord of the unbounded wilderness, did
Arundel attempt to conceal his admiration of the forest Apollo. Waqua
remarked it in the other's eyes, and a gleam of satisfaction lighted
up his face. Throwing the deer he had killed over his shoulder, and
taking a small bundle of skins in his hand, the Indian preceded his
companion on their way to the settlement.

CHAPTER VIII.

"Absit, quoth the doctor."

DON QUIXOTE.

Upon arriving at the little town of Boston, Arundel made the Indian
promise to return to him at the ordinary or inn where he had his
quarters, after the furs and venison should be disposed of. Waqua was
glad to make the promise, and the two separated; the one, directing
his steps towards his lodging; and the other, to seek a purchaser for
his commodities. Arundel was anxious to express his gratitude, and,
besides, was interested by the talk of the child of the forest; while
Waqua, on his part, was evidently disposed to meet any advances.

Eleazar Nettles, the worthy host of the Ship-tavern, who Stood at the
door of the low rambling building, welcomed his lodger with all the
cordiality he could throw into a face originally not ill-looking or
unpleasing, but which, in consequence of practising an appearance of
mortification, (in order to stand well with the grave citizens), which
neither belonged to the calling wherein he was engaged, nor by nature
to itself, seemed an odd mixture of earthly depravity and of heavenly
grace. Not that Eleazar was a bad fellow. Nature had originally
enclosed in his dumpy body a good-humoured soul enough, and, in a less
austere community, where the bent of his disposition might have had
fair play, he would have been a rather jolly dog. He was, however, a
victim of fate. By what disastrous chance his lot was cast in that
grim-visaged region, has never been satisfactorily explained, but
being once in it, and a publican by profession, it was necessary to
conform to the habits and manners of those about him, u