Pequot fight the
battle alone was derogatory to his honor, and besides, his curiosity
was stimulated to witness the conduct of the savage, and he therefore
answered with some asperity--

"For what does the chief take me? Am I a deer to be frightened at the
whizzing of an arrow, or the sight of a tomahawk?"

"Sassacus would be grieved should his brother lose his scalp."

"No more. Where the chief is I will be. I am a warrior as well as
Sassacus," replied the young man, beginning to retrace his steps.

"It is well," said the Indian, following after him; but when the
Pequots go to war in the night they make no noise. My brother must not
make thunder (and he touched the gun).

"As thou wilt. I have my dagger."

"It is enough. Sassacus is a great chief, and my brother will obey him
for one night."

"In all things, save deserting thee."

"Let my brother come, then," said the chief; "the arrows of the
Taranteens shall pierce my bosom before they reach his."

The two now returned together, and upon re-entering the wigwam,
Sassacus again invited Arundel to repose, but not before he had
removed the skins on which his guest had been lying, into the back
part of the lodge, while he made his own couch near the entrance.
Determined to see the adventure, if there was to be one, to its
termination, Arundel laid himself down to wait for what should happen,
while the chief stretched himself out, with his face to the opening.
Some brands were smouldering in the ashes, and they threw an obscure
light into the wigwam.

As they were thus lying, Arundel thought that he could hear once in a
while a faint rustling, but whence it proceeded he was unable, with
all his attention, to discover, and at last concluded it was caused by
the wind among dry leaves.

He had now become so accustomed to this state of things, that the
anxieties which he felt in the first part of the night were gone, and
he began to fancy that the expectation of Sassacus was unfounded. The
face of the chief was turned away, so that it was impossible to
determine whether he were sleeping or not; from the manner of his
breathing, however, Arundel judged that he was awake. But suddenly the
respirations became long and deep, and he exhibited the indications of
a profound slumber. An instant afterwards Arundel, whose eyes were
constantly turned to the opening, beheld the face of an Indian peering
in. His first impulse was to cry out, but before he could make a
sound,