Another nod indicated the assent of the Indian.  Perceiving that the Tuscarora did not intend to speak, the captain continued his interrogatories.

“And how did the trail betray this secret, chief?” he asked.

“Toe turn out—­step too short—­trail too broad—­trail too plain—­march too short.”

“You must have followed them some distance, Wyandotte, to learn all this?”

“Follow from Mohawk—­join ’em at mill.  Tuscarora don’t like too much travel with Mohawk.”

“But, according to your account, there cannot be a great many red-skins in the party, if the white men so much out-number them.”

Nick, now, raised his right hand, showing all the fingers and the thumb, at each exhibition, four several times.  Then he raised it once, showing only the fore-finger and thumb.

“This makes twenty-two, Nick—­Do you include yourself in the number?”

“Wyandotte, a Tuscarora—­he count Mohawks”

“True—­Are there any other red-men among them?”

“Oneida, so”—­holding up four fingers only.  After which he held up a single finger, adding—­“Onondaga, so.”

“Twenty-two Mohawks, four Oneidas, and a single Onondaga, make twenty-seven in all.  To these, how many whites am I to add?—­You counted them, also?”

The Indian now showed both hands, with all the fingers extended, repeating the gestures four times; then he showed one hand entire, and two fingers on the other.

“Forty-seven.  Add these to the red-skins, and we get seventy-four for the total.  I had supposed them rather stronger than this, Wyandotte?”

“No stronger—­no weaker—­just so.  Good many ole womans, too, among pale-faces.”

“Old women!—­You are not speaking literally, Nick?  All that I have seen appear to be men.”

“Got beard; but ole woman, too.  Talk—­talk—­talk;—­do not’in’. Dat what Injin call ole woman.  Party, poor party; cap’in beat ’em, if he fight like ole time.”

“Well, this is encouraging, Wilhelmina, and Nick seems to be dealing fairly with us.”

“Now, inquire more about Robert, Hugh”—­said the wife, in whose maternal heart her children were always uppermost.

“You hear, Nick; my wife is desirous of learning something about her son, next.”

During the preceding dialogue, there had been something equivocal in the expression of the Indian’s face.  Every word he uttered about the party, its numbers, and his own manner of falling in with it, was true, and his countenance indicated that he was dealing fairly.  Still, the captain fancied that he could detect a covert fierceness in his eye and air, and he felt uneasiness even while he yielded him credence.  As soon as Mrs. Willoughby, however, interposed, the gleam of ferocity that passed so naturally and readily athwart the swarthy features of the savage, melted into a look of gentleness, and there were moments when it might be almost termed softness.