Dark tales of Indian warfare, of night attacks and wild stampedes, in which he had always taken a prominent part, flowed freely from his lips, but little else of his past history or present prospects.

And even his narratives of adventure were more or less fragmentary and imperfect in detail.
"You woz saying," said the farmer, with slow, matter of fact, New England deliberation, "ez how you guessed you woz beguiled amongst the Injins by your Mexican partner, a pow'ful influential man, and yet you woz the only one escaped the gen'ral slarterin'.

How came the Injins to kill HIM,--their friend ?" "They didn't," returned Jim, with ominously averted eyes.
"What became of him ?" continued the farmer.
Red Jim shadowed his eyes with his hand, and cast a dark glance of scrutiny out of the doors and windows.

The young girl perceived it with timid, fascinated concern, and said hurriedly:-- "Don't ask him, father! Don't you see he mustn't tell ?" "Not when spies may be hangin' round, and doggin' me at every step," said Red Jim, as if reflecting, with another furtive glance towards the already fading prospect without.

"They've sworn to revenge him," he added moodily.
A momentary silence followed.