“Brothers, as you know, the great canoes from across the sea are bringing more and more white men.  Look about you, and tell me where are your fathers and your brothers and your sons?  Half your fighting men are gone; and if you turn to the West to seek out strong young men from the other tribes, which of them will come to sit by your fires and be your brothers?  The war trails of the Nations have gone to the West as far as the Great River.  All the country has been at war.  The friends of Onontio beyond Michilimackinac have been so busy fighting that they have forgotten to take the beaver, or if they have taken it, they have been afraid to bring it down the water trail to us, lest the Iroquois or the English should rob them.

“Brothers, a great peace is now declared.  Onontio, the father of all the red men, has taken the promises of his children, the Hurons, the Algonquins, the Miamis, the Illini, the Outagamies, the Ojibways, all those peoples who live to the west, that they will follow the war trail no more.  Next summer there will be a great council.  Onontio and Corlaer have agreed to call the tribes to meet at the Mountain in the St. Lawrence.  Onontio says to you that he will give you back your prisoners, and now he demands that you in return give back those whom you may have with you.  This is his will; and if you fail him, you know how heavy is his hand.

“Brothers, I see that you have prisoners here, white prisoners.  These must be given up to us.  I will take them with me when I return.  For your Indian captives, it is the will of Onontio that you bring them all to the Great Peace in the summer, and that you then, all of you, help to dig the great hill under which the hatchet is going to be buried.  Then once more our rivers will not be red, and will look more like water.  The sun will not shine red, but will look as the sun should look.  The sky will again be blue.  Our women and our children will no longer be afraid, and you Iroquois can go to sleep in your houses and not dread the arms of the French.  Brothers, I have spoken.  Peace is good.”

Teganisoris replied in the same strain as that chosen by Joncaire, assuring him that he was his brother; that his heart went out to him; that the Iroquois loved the French; and that if they had gone to war with them, it was but because the young men of Corlaer had closed their eyes so that they could not see the truth.  “As to these prisoners,” said he, “take them with you.  We do not want them with us, for we fear they may bring us harm.  Our medicine man counseled us to offer up one of these prisoners as a sacrifice to the Great Spirit.  We did so.  Now our medicine man has a bad dream.  He says that the white men are going to come and tear down our houses and trample our fields.  When the time comes for the peace, the Iroquois will be at the Mountain.  Brother, we will bury the hatchet, and bury it so deep that henceforth none may ever again dig it up.”