"Nay," answered his father. "They had it not, and that causes me to
think they have passed it as well as the boy on to others of
their tribe. There is naught to be done now but wait until after
Thanksgiving Day."

"'T will be but a sad holiday," said the Goodwife. "Though he is but a
blackamoor, the lad hath found a place in my heart, and I grieve that
evil hath befallen him."

"When I saw thee come out from behind the cow-shed I thought thou
hadst a burden," said Daniel. "I thought it was Zeb--wounded, or
mayhap dead."

"Aye," answered the Goodman. "I did carry a burden and had like to
forgot it. I dropped it by the door of the cow-shed. Go thou and bring
it in."

Dan ran out at once and returned a moment later carrying a huge wild
turkey by the legs. His mother rose and felt its breastbone with her
fingers.

"'T is fine and fat, and young withal," she answered. "'T will make
a brave addition to our feast on the morrow, for, truth to tell, our
preparations have been but half-hearted thus far. Our minds were taken
up with thy danger and fear for the lad."

"Dwell rather on our deliverance," said her husband. "The Lord hath
not brought us into this wilderness to perish. Let us not murmur, as
did the Children of Israel. The Lord still guides us."