We are the world, you and I."
She sat thoughtful and silent for a time, a faint pink, as I said, just
showing on her cheeks.
"John Cowles, of Virginia," she said simply, "now tell me, how shall I
mend this broken kettle?"
CHAPTER XXVII
WITH ALL MY WORLDLY GOODS I THEE ENDOW
Poor, indeed, in worldly goods must be those to whom the discarded
refuse of an abandoned Indian camp seems wealth. Yet such was the case
with us, two representatives of the higher civilization, thus removed
from that civilization by no more than a few days' span. As soon as I
was able to stand we removed our little encampment to the ground lately
occupied by the Indian village.
We must have food, and I could not yet hunt. Here at the camp we found
some bits of dried meat. We found a ragged and half-hairless robe,
discarded by some squaw, and to us it seemed priceless, for now we had a
house by day and a bed by night. A half-dozen broken lodge poles seemed
riches to us. We hoarded some broken moccasins which had been thrown
away. Like jackals we prowled around the filth and refuse of this savage
encampment---we, so lately used to all the comforts that civilization
could give.
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