When the Arrow Flies

XXXII

WHEN THE ROLL IS CALLED UP YONDER

THE scene was as silent as death. Indian dugouts floated idly about in front of the village; some lay half sunk in the waters. Not even a mangy dog appeared. Harry and the MacArthurs walked up the path to the long- houses. They were closed. Palm-leaf mats covered the entrances. Harry stepped into the hut in which he and Harold had slept. A gaunt figure sat hunched over the crude table. At the sound

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