“This, sir, is the truth.  The orthodox priesthood of the Long House shudders and looks askance, but dares not interfere.  As for Sir John, and Butler, and McDonald, what do they care as long as their Senecas are inflamed to fury, and fight the more ruthlessly?  No, sir, only the priesthood of our own allies has dared to accept the challenge from Amochol and his People of the Cat.  Between these it is now a war of utter extermination.  And must be so until not one Erie survives, and until Amochol lies dead upon his proper altar!”

The General said in a low voice: 

“I had not supposed that this business were so vital.”

“Yes, sir, it is vital to the existence of the Iroquois as a federated people who shall remain harmless after we have subdued them, that Amochol and his acolytes die in the very ashes they have so horribly profaned.  Amherst hung two of them.  The nation lay stunned until he left this country.  Had he remained and executed a dozen more Sachems with the rope, the world, I think, had never heard of Amochol.”

The General looked hard at me: 

“Can you reach Amochol, Mr. Loskiel?”

“That is what I would say to you, sir.  I think I can reach him at Catharines-town with my Indians and a detachment from my own regiment, and crush him before he is alarmed by the advance of this army.  I have spoken with my Indians, and they believe this can be accomplished, because we have learned that on the last day of this month the secret and debased rites of the Onon-hou-aroria will be practiced at Catharines-town; and every Sorcerer will be there.”

“Do you propose to go out in advance on this business?”

“It must be done that way, sir, if we can hope to destroy this Sorcerer.  The Seneca scouts most certainly watch this encampment from every hilltop.  And the day this army stirs on its march to Catharines-town and Kendaia, the news will run into the North like lightning.  You, sir, can hope to encounter no armed resistance as you march northward burning town after town, save only if Butler makes a stand or attempts an ambuscade in force.

“Otherwise, no Seneca will await your coming—­ I mean there will be no considerable force of Senecas to oppose you in their towns, only the usual scalping parties hanging just outside the smoke veil.  All will retire before you.  And how is Amochol to be destroyed at Catharines-town unless he be struck at secretly before your advance is near enough to frighten him?”

“What people would you take with you?”

“My Indians, Lieutenant Boyd, and thirty riflemen.”

“Is that not too few?”

“In all swift and secret marches, sir, a few do better service than many—­ as you have taught your own people many a time.”

“That is quite true.  But they never seem to learn the lesson.  I am somewhat astonished that you have seemed to learn it, and lay it practically to heart.”  He smiled, drummed on the table with a Faber pencil, then, knitting his brows, drew to him a sheet of paper and wrote on it slowly, pausing from time to time in troubled reflection.  Once he glanced up at me coldly, and: