“Then, by God!” said I in a cold fury.  “I will go down to the stream and put him under arrest until such time as his true colours may be properly determined!”

“Loskiel, if yonder Indian once saw in your eye that you meant to take him, he would slip between your hands like a spotted trout and be off down stream to his comrades.  Go not toward him angry, or with anything in your manner and voice that he might distrust.”

“I never learned to smile in the face of a traitor!”

“Learn now, then.  Brother, you are young; and war is long.  And of many aspects are they who take arms in their hands to slay.  Strength is good; quickness and a true eye to the rifle-sight are good.  But best of all in war are the calmness and patience of wisdom.  A Sagamore has spoken.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Nothing, yet.”

“But we must make a night march of it, and I could not endure that infamous creature’s company, even if it were safe for us to take him with us.”

“My brother may remain tranquil.  The Grey-Feather and I are watching him.  The praying Indian and Tahoontowhee understand also.  When we once are certain, the Erie dies.”

“When you are certain,” said I in a fury, “I will have him properly tried by military court and hung as high as Amherst hung two of his fellow devils.  I wish to God he had executed the entire nation while he was about it.  For once Sir William Johnson was wrong to interfere.”

The Sagamore laughed and laid one hand on my shoulder: 

“Is it a custom for an Ensign to pass judgment on a Major-General, O Loskiel, my dear but much younger brother?”

I blushed hot with annoyance and shame.  Of all things on earth, self-control was the most necessary quality to any officer commanding Indians.

“The Sagamore is right,” I said in a mortified voice.

“The Sagamore has lived longer than his younger brother,” he rejoined gently.

“And is far wiser,” said I.

“A little wiser in some few things concerning human life, Loskiel....  Does my brother desire that Mayaro shall bring in the Wyandotte?”

“Bring him,” I said; and walked forward toward our camp.

Tahoontowhee stopped me with his challenge, then sprang forward at the sound of my voice.

“Men in the woods,” he whispered, “creeping up from the South.  They saw no fire and prowled no nearer than panthers prowl when they know a camp is awake.”

“Senecas,” I said briefly.  “We make a night march of it.  Remain on guard here.  The Grey-Feather will bring your pack to you when we pick you up.”

As I ascended the rocky pulpit, both the Grey-Feather and the Stockbridge were standing erect and wide awake, packs strapped and slung, rifles in hand.

“Senecas,” I said.  “Too many for us.”

“Are we not to strike?” asked the Oneida wistfully, as the Mohican came swiftly up the rock followed by the Wyandotte, who seemed inclined to lag.