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174 by a darkening of the entrance, and John entered.

“You come,” he said. “Great Sachem say it.”

Wondering, David followed John to the big wigwam. Shouldering his way through the throng without, John led David through  the door and into the softer twilight of the  lodge. Within was an unusual scene. Every available foot of space was occupied save in  the very center, where, surrounded by all his  counselors, the sachem sat with the three  messengers from King Philip before him. Around this group, packed like fish in a hogshead, were the men of the village, or so many of them as were fortunate enough to enter. The sachem’s big green stone pipe had been smoked by the visitors and the chief and  was now passing from hand to hand amongst  the counselors. There was little talk going on, although occasionally Metipom addressed  a question or a word to the guests and was  briefly answered. David’s advent excited no attention, and, at a sign from John, he  squatted at the edge of the circle. Through the smoke-hole above, the sun sent a long  wand of golden radiance into the wigwam  in which the blue haze of tobacco smoke