“I reveal nothing,” replied Robert, “when I say they still barter with success and enjoy the pleasant ways of commerce.  I am not one to underrate the merchant.  More than the soldier they build up a nation.”

“It’s a large spirit that can put the trade of another before one’s own, because I am a soldier, and you, I judge, will become one if you are not such now.  Peace, Tandakora, it is doubtless the friends of Monsieur Lennox who come!”

The gigantic Indian had risen suddenly and had thrust forward the good French musket that he carried.  Robert had never beheld a more sinister figure.  The lips were drawn back a little from his long white teeth and his eyes were those of a hunter who sought to kill for the sake of killing.  But at the chiding words of St. Luc the tense muscles relaxed and he lowered the weapon.  Robert was compelled to notice anew the great influence the French had acquired over the Indians, and he recognized it with dread, knowing what it might portend.

The footsteps which the savage had heard first were now audible to him, and he stood up, knowing that Tayoga and Willet were returning, and he was glad of it.

“My friends are here,” he said.

The Chevalier de St. Luc, with his customary politeness, rose to his feet and Dubois rose with him.  The Ojibway remained sitting, a huge piece of deer meat in his hand.  Tayoga and Willet appeared through the bushes, and whatever surprise they may have felt they concealed it well.  The faces of both were a blank.

“Guests have come since your departure,” said Robert, with the formal politeness of the time.  “These gentlemen are the Chevalier Raymond Louis de St. Luc, from Quebec, Monsieur Armand Dubois, from the same place, I presume, and Tandakora, a mighty Ojibway chief, who, it seems, has wandered far from his own country, on what errand I know not.  Chevalier my friends of whom I spoke, Mr. David Willet, the great hunter, and Tayoga of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the League of the Hodenosaunee, my brother of the forest and a great chief.”

He spoke purposely with sonority, and also with a tinge of satire, particularly when he alluded to the presence of Tandakora at such a great distance from his tribe.  But St. Luc, of course, though noticing it, ignored it in manner.  He extended his hand promptly to the great hunter who grasped it in his mighty palm and shook it.

“I have heard of you, Mr. Willet,” he said.  “Our brave Canadians are expert in the forest and the chase, and the good Dubois here is one of the best, but I know that none of them can excel you.”

Robert, watching him, could not say that he spoke without sincerity, and Willet took the words as they were uttered.

“I’ve had a long time for learning,” he said modestly, “and I suppose experience teaches the dullest of us.”

Robert saw that the Ojibway had now risen and that he and the Onondaga were regarding each other with a gaze so intent and fierce, so compact of hatred that he was startled and his great pulses began to beat hard.  But it was only for an instant or two that the two warriors looked thus into hostile eyes.  Then both sat down and their faces became blank and expressionless.