I assented gravely.

The sun hung level, now, sending its blinding light straight into our eyes; and for precaution’s sake we edged away under the blue shadows of the shrubbery, in case some far prowler note the light spots where our faces showed against the wall of green behind us.

“How far from Catharines-town,” I asked, “lies the Vale Yndaia, of which our little Lois has spoken?”

“It is the next valley to the westward.  A pass runs through and a little brook.  Pleasant it is, Loskiel, with grassy glades and half a hundred little springs which we call ‘Eyes of the Inland Seas.’”

“You know,” I said, “that in this valley all the hopes of Lois de Contrecoeur are centred.”

“I know, Loskiel,” he answered gravely.

“Do you believe her mother lives there still?”

“How shall I know, brother?  If it were with these depraved and perverted Senecas as it is with other nations, the mother of a Hidden Child had lived there unmolested.  Her lodge would have remained her sanctuary; her person had been respected; her Hidden One undisturbed down to this very hour.  But see how the accursed Senecas have dealt with her, so that to save her child from Amochol she sent it far beyond the borders of the Long House itself!  What shame upon the Iroquois that the Senecas have defiled their purest law!  May Leshi seize them all!  So how, then, shall I know whether this white captive mother lives in the Vale Yndaia still—­ or if she lives at all?  Or if they have not made of her a priestess—­ a sorceress—­ perhaps The Dreaming Prophetess of the Onon-hou-aroria!—­ by reason of her throat being white!”

“What!” I exclaimed, startled.

“Did not the Erie boast a Prophetess to confound us all?”

“I did not comprehend.”

“Did he not squat, squalling at us from his cave, deriding every secret plan we entertained, and boasting that the Senecas had now a prophetess who could reveal to them everything their white enemies were plotting—­ because her own throat was white?”

I looked at him in silent horror.

“Hai-ee!” he said grimly.  “If she still lives at all it is because she dreams for Amochol.  And this, Loskiel, has long remained my opinion.  Else they had slain her on their altars long ago—­ strangled her as soon as ever she sent her child beyond their reach.  For what she did broke sanctuary.  According to the code of the Long House, the child belonged to the nation in which the mother was a captive.  And by the mother’s act this child was dedicated to a stainless marriage with some other child who also had been hidden.  But the Red Sorcerer has perverted this ancient law; and when he would have taken the child to sacrifice it, then did the mother break the law of sanctuary and send her child away, knowing, perhaps, that the punishment for this is death.