bread of their corn meal. The three ate with them, and Robert felt that
they were among friends. The Mohawks not only had Frontenac to remember,
but further back Champlain, the French soldier and explorer, who had
defeated them before they knew the use of firearms. He felt that
Duquesne at Quebec would have great difficulty in overcoming the enmity
of this warlike and powerful red nation, and he resolved to do what he
could to keep them attached to the British cause. It might be only a
little, but a little many times amounted to much.

Dayohogo and his warriors had been on a scout toward the north to the
very borders of the French settlements, and the chief told the three
that an unusual movement was going on there. Regular soldiers were
expected soon from France. War belts and splendid presents had been sent
to the tribes about the Great Lakes, both to the north and to the south,
and Onontio was addressing messages of uncommon politeness to his
brethren, the valiant Ganeagaono, otherwise the Mohawks, the Keepers of
the Eastern Gate.

"And do the Mohawk chiefs listen to the words of Onontio?" asked Robert
anxiously.

Dayohogo did not reply at once. He looked at the green woods. Birds,
blue or gray or brown, were darting here and there in the foliage, and
his eye rested for a moment on a tiny wren.

"The voice of Onontio is the voice of a bird chattering in a tree," he
said. "In the day of my father's father's father the children of
Onontio, under Champlain, came with guns, which were strange to us, and
with presents they induced the Adirondack warriors to help them. They
came up the great lake which the white people call Champlain, then they