“I hold with you, sir, that we cannot surrender prisoners to them, even though the cause of France should suffer.”

“Then talk to this savage chief.  Make him see reason.  Promise him and his people what you wish in muskets, ammunition, blankets and such things, but no prisoners, not one.”

St. Luc, with a respectful salute, left the tent.  He was torn by conflicting emotions.  He was depressed over the smallness of the French numbers, and yet he was elated by Montcalm’s decision to stay at Ticonderoga and await Abercrombie.  He was confident, as he had said, that some lucky chance would happen, and that the overwhelming superiority of the Anglo-American army would be nullified.

The Chevalier cast a discriminating eye over the French position.  The staunch battalion of Berry lay near the foot of Lake George, but the greater part of the army under the direct command of Montcalm was in camp near a saw mill.  The valiant Bourlamaque was at the head of the portage, and another force held the point of embarkation on Lake George.  But he knew that Montcalm would change these dispositions when the day of battle came.

On the westward side of the camp several fires burned and dark figures lay near them.  St. Luc marked one of these, a gigantic savage, stretched at his ease, and he walked toward him.  He pretended, at first, that his errand had nothing to do with Tandakora, but stood thoughtfully by the fire, for a minute or two.  Nor did the Ojibway chief take any notice.  He lay at ease, and it was impossible to tell what thoughts were hidden behind his sullen face.

“Does Tandakora know what the commander of the French army has decided to do?” said St. Luc, at last.

“Tandakora is not thinking much about it,” replied the chief.

“Montcalm is a brave general.  He shows that he is not afraid of the great army the English and the Bostonnais have gathered.  He will not retreat to Crown Point or anywhere else, but will stay at Ticonderoga and defeat his foes.”

The black eyes of the Ojibway flickered.

“Tandakora does not undertake to tell Montcalm what he must do,” he said, “nor must Montcalm undertake to tell Tandakora what he should do.  What Montcalm may do will not now keep Tandakora awake.”

St. Luc’s heart filled with hot anger, but he was used to dealing with Indians.  He understood their minds from the inside, and he had a superb self-control of his own.

“We know that Tandakora is a great chief,” he said evenly.  “We know too that he and his men are as free as the winds.  As they blow where they please so the warriors of Tandakora go where they wish.  But Onontio [The Governor-General of Canada.] and Tandakora have long been friends.  They have been allies, they have fought side by side in many a battle.  If Onontio falls, Tandakora falls with him.  If the British and Bostonnais are victorious, there will be room for none of the tribes save the League of the Hodenosaunee, and them Tandakora hates.  Onontio will not be able to protect them any more, and they will be driven from all their hunting grounds.”