Robert blushed, and yet his heart was beating at the praise of Dayohogo, obviously so sincere.  He felt with a sudden instinctive rush of conviction that the Mohawk was telling him the truth.  It was an early and partial display of the liquid and powerful speech, which afterward gave him renown in New York and far beyond, and which caused people everywhere to call him the “Golden Mouthed.”  And he was always eager to acknowledge that much of its strength came from the lofty thought and brilliant imagery shown by many of the orators of the nations of the Hodenosaunee, with whom so much of his youth was spent.

“I only spoke the thought that was in my mind, Dayohogo,” he said modestly.

“Wherein is the beginning of great speech,” said the sachem sagely.  “When Lennox returns from the journey on which he is now going it would be fit for him to go to the vale of Onondaga and meet St. Luc in debate before the fifty sachems.”

Robert’s heart leaped again.  It was like a call to battle, and now he knew what his great aim in life should be.  He would strive with study and practice to make himself first in it, but, for the present, he had other thoughts and purpose.  Willet, however, took fire too from the words of the Mohawk chief.

“I’ve noticed before, Robert,” he said, “that you had the gift of tongues, and we’ll make a great orator of you.  In times such as ours a man of that kind is needed bad.  Maybe what Dayohogo thinks ought to be, will be, and you will yet oppose St. Luc before the fifty sachems in the vale of Onondaga.”

“It would be well,” said Dayohogo thoughtfully, “because the men at Albany still give the Hodenosaunee trouble, making a promise seem one thing when it is given, and another when the time to keep it comes.”

“I know, Dayohogo!” exclaimed Willet, vehemently.  “I know how those sleek traders who are appointed to deal with you cheat you out of your furs and try to cheat you out of your lands!  But be patient a little longer, you who have been patient so long.  Word has come from England that the King will remove his commissioners, and make Sir William Johnson his Indian agent for all North America.”

The eyes of Dayohogo and his warriors glistened.

“Is it true?” he asked.  “Is Waraiyageh (Johnson) to be the one who will talk with us and make the treaties with us?”

“I know it to be a fact, Dayohogo.”

“Then it is well.  We can trust Waraiyageh, and he knows that he can trust us.  Where our trail runs to Kolaneha (Johnstown) on a hill not far from our tower castle he has built a great house, and I and my brother chiefs of all the three clans the Wolf, the Bear and the Turtle, have been there and have received presents from him.  He is the friend of the Ganeagaono, and he knew that he could build a house among us and live there in peace, with our warriors to guard him.”

The news that Johnson would be the King’s Indian agent had an electric effect upon the Mohawks.  Whether he talked English or Iroquois he talked a language they understood, and his acts were comprehensible by them.  He had their faith and he never lost it.