And to me he added bluntly: 

“Translate, Mr. Loskiel.”

“I think the Sagamore has understood, sir,” said I.  “Is it not so, Sagamore?”

“Mayaro has understood,” said the Indian quietly.

“Does the great Mohican Sagamore accept?”

“My elder brother,” replied the Sagamore calmly, “Mayaro has pledged his word to his younger brother Loskiel.  A Mohican Sagamore never lies.  Loskiel is my friend.  Why should I lie to him?  A Sagamore speaks the truth.”

Which was true in a measure, at least as far as wanton or idle lying is concerned, or cowardly lying either, But he had lied to me concerning his knowledge of the strange maid, Lois, which kind of untruth all Indians consider more civil than a direct refusal to answer a question.

Boyd stood by, smiling, as the Major very politely informed me of the disposition he had made of the Sagamore and myself, recommended Mayaro to my most civil attention, and added that, for the present, I was relieved from routine duty with my battalion.

If the Siwanois perceived any undue precaution in the Major’s manner of lodging him, he did not betray by the quiver of an eyelash that he comprehended he was practically under guard.  He stalked forth and across the parade beside me, head high, bearing dignified and tranquil.

At the outer gate our junior ensign languidly dusted a speck of snuff from his wristband, and indicated the roof of our hut, which was visible above the feathery river willows.  So we proceeded thither, I resigning my horse to the soldier, Mount, who had been holding him, and who was now detailed to act as soldier-servant to me still.

“Jack,” said I, “if there be fresh-baked bread in the regimental ovens yonder, fetch a loaf, in God’s name.  I could gnaw black-birch and reindeer moss, so famished am I—­ and the Sagamore, too, no doubt, could rattle a flam with a wooden spoon.”

But our chief baker was a Low-Dutch dog from Albany; and it was not until I had bathed me in the Mohawk, burrowed into my soldier’s chest, and put on clean clothing that Jack Mount managed to steal the loaf he had asked for in vain.  And this, with a bit of salt beef and a bowl of fresh milk, satisfied the Siwanois and myself.

I had been relieved of all routine duty, and was henceforth detailed to foregather with, amuse, instruct and casually keep an eye on my Mohican.  In other words, my only duty, for the present, was to act as mentor to the Sagamore, keep him pleasantly affected toward our cause, see that he was not tampered with, and that he had his bellyful three times a day.  Also, I was to extract from him in advance any information concerning the Iroquois country that he might have knowledge of.

It was a warm and pleasant afternoon along the river where the batteaux, loaded with stores and soldiers, were passing up, and Oneida canoes danced across the sparkling water toward Fort Plain.