“Colonel Johnson, I wish to present Tayoga, who is of the most ancient blood of the Onondagas, a member of the Clan of the Bear, and destined to be a great chief.  A most valiant and noble youth, too, I assure you, and the white lad is Robert Lennox, to whom I stand in the place of a father.”

“I have heard of Tayoga,” said Colonel Johnson, “and his people and mine are friends.”

“It is true,” said Tayoga, “Waraiyageh has been the best friend among the white people that the nations of the Hodenosaunee have ever had.  He has never tricked us.  He has never lied to us, and often he has incurred great hardship and danger to help us.”

“It is pleasant in my ears to hear you say so, Tayoga,” said Colonel Johnson, “and as for Mr. Lennox, who, my eyes tell me is also a noble and gallant youth, it seems to me I’ve heard some report of him too.  You carried the private letters from the Governor of New York to the Marquis Duquesne, Governor General of Canada?”

“I did, sir,” replied Robert.

“And of course you were there with Willet.  Your mission, I believe, was kept as secret as possible, but I learned at Albany that you bore yourself well, and that you also gave an exhibition with the sword.”

It was Robert’s turn to flush.

“I’m a poor swordsman, sir,” he said, “by the side of Mr. Willet.”

“Good enough though, for the occasion.  But come, I’ll make an end to badinage.  You must be on your way to Mount Johnson.”

“That was our destination,” said Willet.

“Then right welcome guests you’ll be.  I have a little camp but a short distance away.  Molly is there, and so is that young eagle, her brother, Joseph Brant.  Molly will see that you’re well served with food, and after that you shall stay at Mount Johnson as long as you like, and the longer you’ll stay the better it will please Molly and me.  You shall tell us of your adventures, Mr. Lennox, and about that Quebec in which you and Mr. Willet seem to have cut so wide a swath with your rapiers.”

“We did but meet the difficulties that were forced upon us,” protested Willet.

Colonel Johnson laughed once more, and most heartily.

“If all people met in like fashion the difficulties that were forced upon them,” he said, “it would be a wondrous efficient world, so much superior to the world that now is that one would never dream they had been the same.  But just beyond the hill is our little camp which, for want of a better name, I’ll call a bower.  Here is Joseph, now, coming to meet us.”

An Indian lad of about eleven years, but large and uncommonly strong for his age, was walking down the hill toward them.  He was dressed partly in civilized clothing, and his manner was such that he would have drawn the notice of the observing anywhere.  His face was open and strong, with great width between the eyes, and his gaze was direct and firm.  Robert knew at once that here was an unusual boy, one destined if he lived to do great things.  His prevision was more than fulfilled.  It was Joseph Brant, the renowned Thayendanegea, the most famous and probably the ablest Indian chief with whom the white men ever came into contact.