“It is so, O Daganoweda, of the clan of the Turtle, of the nation Ganeagaono, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee,” replied Tayoga.  “I see that my brethren, the Keepers of the Eastern Gate, watch when the savage tribes come within their territory.”

The brows of the young Mohawk contracted into a frown.

“Most of our warriors are on the great trail to the vale of Onondaga,” he said.  “We are but four, and, though we are only four, we intended to attack.  The smoke nearer by is made by Hurons and Caughnawagas.”

“You are more than four, you are seven,” said Tayoga.

Daganoweda understood, and smiled fiercely and proudly.

“You have spoken well, Tayoga,” he said, “but you have spoken as I expected you to speak.  Onundagaono and Ganeagaono be the first nations of the Hodenosaunee and they never fail each other.  We are seven and we are enough.”

He took it for granted that Tayoga spoke as truly for the two white men as for himself, and Robert and the hunter felt themselves committed.  Moreover their debt to the Onondaga was so great that they could not abandon him, and they knew he would go with the Mohawks.  It would also be good policy to share their enterprise and their danger.

“We’ll support you to the end of it,” said Willet quietly.

“The English have always been the friends of the Hodenosaunee,” said Daganoweda, as he led the way through the undergrowth toward the point from which the smoke come.  Neither Robert nor Willet felt any scruple about attacking the warriors there, as they were clearly invaders with hostile purpose of Mohawk territory, and it was also more than likely that their immediate object was the destruction of the three.  Yet the two Americans held back a little, letting the Indians take the lead, not wishing it to be said that they began the battle.

Daganoweda, whose name meant “Inexhaustible,” was a most competent young chief.  He spread out his little force in a half circle, and the seven rapidly approached the fire.  But Robert was glad when a stick broke under the foot of an incautious and eager warrior, and the Hurons and Caughnawagas, turning in alarm, fired several bullets into the bushes.  He was glad, because it was the other side that began the combat, and if there was a Frenchman with them he could not go to Montreal or Quebec, saying the British and their Indians had fired the first shot.

All of the bullets flew wide, and Daganoweda’s band took to cover at once, waiting at least five minutes before they obtained a single shot at a brown body.  Then all the usual incidents of a forest struggle followed, the slow creeping, the occasional shot, a shout of triumph or the death yell, but the Hurons and Caughnawagas, who were about a dozen in number, were routed and took to flight in the woods, leaving three of their number fallen.  Two of the Mohawks were wounded but not severely.  Tayoga, who was examining the trail, suddenly raised his head and said: