But he did not speak; he did not know what to say, and it is ill-spent time--that passed in purposeless speech with such as Peppajee.

Peppajee roused himself from meditation brief as it seemed deep, lifted a lean, brown hand to push back from his eyes a fallen lock of hair, and pointed straight away to the west.
"Las' night, sun go sleepum.

Clouds come all same blanket, sun wrappum in blanket.

Cloud look heap mad--mebbyso make much storm.

Bimeby much mens come in cloud, stand so--and so--and so." With pointing finger he indicated a half circle.