or the day's work.
Usually Terry wandered out alone, returning at evening to sit in the
doorway, lost in study.

Daily the Major loitered about the village till late afternoon, then
took up his stand in the woods near Ohto's domicile, waiting: and Ahma
never failed him. Bashfully distressed at first in the close proximity
to the wealth of charm revealed by her scant costume, he soon became
unconscious of it, her garb was so entirely congruous to her free,
unschooled nature. He practiced his sketchy dialect upon her,
delighted in each successful transmission of thought, more delighted
in the naive bewilderment that many of his linguistic efforts wrought
in her frank features.

The fifth day she failed to appear. He waited long, restless, till
certain that she would not come and then set off through the woods,
his big heart yearning for an unattainable something he could not
define or classify.

Regardless of where he went the Major crossed the tableland and
started down the incline of the slope. A mile, and he came across some
young hunters beating deer into a fenced runway that converged to a
narrow opening where two warriors stood ready, armed with great
spears. He turned to the left, crossing a little burnt clearing which
still bore the stubble of the season's harvest. Another half-mile and
he suddenly came upon a grass lean-to behind which two old Hillmen
grimly stirred a simmering pot from which arose an overpowering
stench: he fled the spot, knowing the sinister character of the
venomous brew.

The sun was low when he returned to the hut, still unhappy over
Ahma's failure to appear. In a few minutes Terry entered the shack. He
had come from the direction of Ohto's house, and his face was cleared
of the perplexity of the last few days.

During supper Terry studied the moody face of his friend, but forebore
comment. At the hour of sunset--the hour when the superstitious
Hillmen looked for their "signs"--the savages thronged the clearing in
mute expectancy. It was apparent that Ohto's injunction had been
communicated throughout the Hills, as each night the crowd who waited
the sign was augmented by contingents from other villages. The
hundreds stood, silent, as the sun sank slowly into a horizon of white
clouds which flushed pink, brightened into shades of rose and crimson.
For a brief moment the upturned faces of the brown host were ruddied;
they stood motionless, mute, while dusk settled. Then night fell
alm