rs, and knew that Amos was rowing
toward them. The paddles began to move more swiftly, and the sound of
the oars grew more indistinct. Anne realized that Amos could not keep up
with the canoe. But she was sure that he would follow them, and it made
her feel less uneasy.

"Amos is a good boy," she explained to the squaw, but there was no
response. "I'd like to tell him that you've been good to me," continued
Anne.

At this the squaw, with a word to Nakanit, held her paddle motionless,
and very soon Amos was close beside them.

"Tell him," commanded the squaw.

So Anne told her little story of adventure, and said, "And they are
going to take me right to Rose Freeman in Brewster. Nakanit's mother
talks English."

Amos listened in amazement. "I told Amanda you'd started for Brewster,"
he responded, "and I sent word to father that I was going there, so I
might as well go. I've got things to eat. Amanda's sorry," he added,
looking rather shamed as he spoke his sister's name.

The squaw now dipped her paddle again, and the canoe and boat moved
forward. Anne began to think about her lost bundle, and to remember how
neatly Rose Freeman dressed. "She will be ashamed of me," thought the
girl, looking down at her wet and faded skirt and bare feet.

"Say, don't we stop anywhere for dinner?" asked Amos. "It's getting hot
work rowing all this time."

The squaw looked at the boy sharply, and then turned the canoe toward
the shore. They landed on a beach, close by the mouth of a stream of
clear water. A little way from the beach they found shade under a
branching oak-tree.

"I'll build a fire," suggested Amos, "and I'll get some clams; shall I?"
and he turned toward the squaw.

She nodded, and seemed rather surprised when she saw that the boy
understood her own way of getting fire, and when he asked for a basket
and soon returned with it well filled with clams, which he roasted in
the hot sand under the coals, she evidently began to think well of him.
Amos shared his bread and a piece of cold beef which he had brought from
home with his companions, and, with a quantity of blueberries that
Nakanit had gathered while Amos roasted the clams, they all had enough
to eat, and Amos said everything tasted better than if eaten in the
house, at which the squaw nodded and smiled.

Anne found a chance to whisper to Amos: "Don't tell her I ran away."

"All right, but I fear she knows it," replied the boy.

It was in the early evenin