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33 disciples and had recently become a teacher. He spoke English well and could read it fairly. He and David had been friends ever since shortly after the latter’s arrival in that  vicinity, at which time David had been a boy  of nine years and Pikot twelve. They had hunted together and lost themselves together  in the Long Marsh, and had had the usual  adventures and misadventures falling to the  lot of boys whether they be white or red. For the last three years, though, Pikot’s duties  had held him closer to the village and their  meetings had been fewer. The Indian was a splendid-looking youth, tall and straight—for which David had once dubbed him  Straight Arrow-with hard, lean muscles  and a gracefulness that was like the swaying  litheness of a panther. His features were exceptional for one of a tribe not usually endowed with good looks, for his forehead was broad, his eyes well apart, and his whole  countenance indicated nobility. His gaze was direct and candid, and, which was unusual in his people, his mouth curved  slightly upward at the corners, giving him  a less grave expression than most Indians  showed. Perhaps David had taught him to laugh, or, at least, to smile, for he did so fre-