with the motherland was coming, and the prospect was
almost more than he could bear. On the very day of his
death he had received dispatches from England that probably
hastened his end. He was told, under the royal seal, of
the great peril that lay in store for all the king's
people, and he was urged to keep the Six Nations firm in
their allegiance to the crown. On that morning, July
11, 1774, the dying man called the Indians to council,
and spoke what were to be his parting words to the tribes.
They must, he said, stand by the king, undaunted and
unmoved under every trial. A few hours later the gallant
Sir William Johnson, the friend of all the sons of the
forest, the guide and helper of Joseph Brant, had breathed
his last. His estates and titles were inherited by his
son John Johnson, who was also promoted to the rank of
major-general in the army. The control of Indian Affairs
passed into the hands of his son-in-law, Colonel Guy
Johnson, an able man, but less popular and wanting the
broad sympathies of the great superintendent. Brant was
at once made secretary to Guy Johnson, and to these two
men Sir William's work of dealing with the Indians now
fell. Their task, laid on them by their king, was to keep
the Six Nations true to his cause in the hour when the
tomahawk should leave its girdle and the war fires should
again gleam sullenly in the depths of the forest.

Joseph Brant set about this work with restless energy.
He was no longer the stripling who had gone away to the
West that he might aid in bending the pride of Pontiac.
Ten years had passed, and now he was a mature man with