bushes, and whatever surprise they may have felt they concealed it well.
The faces of both were a blank.

"Guests have come since your departure," said Robert, with the formal
politeness of the time. "These gentlemen are the Chevalier Raymond Louis
de St. Luc, from Quebec, Monsieur Armand Dubois, from the same place, I
presume, and Tandakora, a mighty Ojibway chief, who, it seems, has
wandered far from his own country, on what errand I know not. Chevalier
my friends of whom I spoke, Mr. David Willet, the great hunter, and
Tayoga of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the League of
the Hodenosaunee, my brother of the forest and a great chief."

He spoke purposely with sonority, and also with a tinge of satire,
particularly when he alluded to the presence of Tandakora at such a
great distance from his tribe. But St. Luc, of course, though noticing
it, ignored it in manner. He extended his hand promptly to the great
hunter who grasped it in his mighty palm and shook it.

"I have heard of you, Mr. Willet," he said. "Our brave Canadians are
expert in the forest and the chase, and the good Dubois here is one of
the best, but I know that none of them can excel you."

Robert, watching him, could not say that he spoke without sincerity,
and Willet took the words as they were uttered.

"I've had a long time for learning," he said modestly, "and I suppose
experience teaches the dullest of us."

Robert saw that the Ojibway had now risen and that he and the Onondaga
were regarding each other with a gaze so intent and fierce, so compact