THE VALE OF ONONDAGA
The heavens favored their journey. They were troubled by no more storms
or rain, and as the soft winds blew, flowers opened before them. Game
was abundant and they had food for the taking. As they drew near the
vale they were joined by a small party of Oneidas, and a little later
were met by an Onondaga runner who spoke with great respect to Tayoga
and who gave them news.
The Frenchman, St. Luc, and the Canadian, Dubois, who had come with
them, were in the vale of Onondaga, where they had been received as
guests, and had been treated with hospitality. The fifty sachems, taking
their own time, had not yet met in council, and St. Luc had been
compelled to wait, but he had made great progress in the esteem of the
Hodenosaunee. Onontio could not have sent a better messenger.
"I knew that he would do it," said Willet. "That Frenchman, St. Luc, is
wonderful, and if anybody could convert the Hodenosaunee to the French
cause he's the man. Oh, he'll ply 'em with a thousand arguments, and
he'll dwell particularly on the fact that the French have moved first
and are ready to strike. We haven't come too soon, Robert."
But the runner informed them further that it would yet be some time
before the great council in the Long House, since the first festival of
the spring, the Maple Dance, was to be held in a few days, and the
chiefs had refused positively to meet until afterward. The sap was
already flowing and the guardians of the faith had chosen time and place
for this great and joyous ceremony of the Hodenosaunee, joyous despite
the fact that it was preceded by a most solemn event, the general
confession of sins.
The eyes of Tayoga and of the Mohawks and Oneidas glistened when they
heard.
"We must be there in time for all," said Tayoga.
"Truly we must, brother," said Daganoweda, the Mohawk.
And now they hastened their speed through the fertile and beautiful
country, where spring was attaining its full glory, and, as the sap
began to run in the maples, so the blood leaped fresh and sparkling even
in the veins of the old. A band of Senecas joined them, and when they
came to the edge of the vale of Onondaga they were a numerous party, all
eager, keen, and surcharged with a spirit which was religious, political
and military, the three being inseparably intertwined in the lives of
the Hodenosaunee.
They stood upon a high hill and looked over the great, beautiful valley
full of orchards and fields and far to the north they caught a slight
glimpse of the lake bearing the name of the Keepers of the Council Fire.
Smoke rose from the chimneys of the solid log houses built by this most
enlightened tribe, flecking the blue of the sky, and the whole scene
was one of peace and beauty. The eyes of Tayoga, the Onondaga, and of
Daganoweda, the Mohawk, glistened as they looked, and their hearts
throbbed with fervent admiration. It was more than a village of the
Onondagas that lay before them, it was the temple and shrine of the
great league, the Hodenosaunee. The Onondagas kept the council fire, and
ranked first in piety, but the Mohawks, the Keepers of the Eastern Gate,
were renowned even to the Great Plains for their valor, and they stood
with the Onondagas, their equals man for man, while the Senecas, known
to themselves and their brother nations as the Nundawaono, were more
numerous than either.
"We shall be in time for the great festival, the Maple Dance," said
Tayoga to the young Mohawk.
"Yes, my brother, we have come before the beginning," said Daganoweda,
"and I am glad that it is so. We may not have the Maple Dance again for
many seasons. The shadow of the mighty war creeps upon the Hodenosaunee,
and when the spring returns who knows where the warriors of the great
League will be? We are but little children and we know nothing of the
future, which Manitou alone holds in his keeping."
"You speak truth, Daganoweda. The Ganeagaono are both valiant and wise.
It is a time for the fifty sachems to use all the knowledge they have
gathered in their long lives, but we will hear what the Frenchman, St.
Luc, has to say, even though he belongs to the nation that sent
Frontenac against us."
"The Hodenosaunee can do no less," said the Mohawk, tersely.
Robert could not keep from hearing and he was glad of the little affair
with the two hostile bands, knitting as it did their friendship with the
Mohawks. But he too, since he had penetrated the Iroquois spirit and saw
as they did, felt the great and momentous nature of the crisis. While
the nations of the Hodenosaunee might decide whether English or French
were to win in the coming war they might, at the same time, decide the
fate of the great League which had endured for centuries.
They descended into the vale of Onondaga, but at its edge, in a great
forest, the entire group stopped, as it became necessary there for
Tayoga, Willet and Robert to say a temporary farewell to the others who
would not advance into the Onondaga town until the full power of the
Hodenosaunee was gathered. The council, as Robert surmised and as he now
learned definitely, had been called by the Onondagas, who had sent
heralds with belts eastward to the Oneidas, who in turn had sent them
yet farther eastward to the Mohawks, westward to the Cayugas whose duty
it was to pass them on to the Senecas yet more to the west. The Oneidas
also gave belts to the Dusgaowehono, or Tuscaroras, the valiant tribe
that had come up from the south forty years before, and that had been
admitted into the Hodenosaunee, turning the Five Nations into the Six,
and receiving lands within the territory of the Oneidas.
Already great numbers of warriors from the different nations, their
chiefs at their head, were scattered about the edges of the valley
awaiting the call of the Onondagas for participation in the Maple Dance,
and the great and fateful council afterward. And since they did not know
whether this council was for peace or for war, every sachem had brought
with him a bundle of white cedar fagots that typified peace, and also a
bundle of red cedar fagots that typified war.
"Farewell, my friends," said Daganoweda, the Mohawk, to Tayoga, Robert
and Willet. "We rest here until the great sachems of the Onondagas send
for us, and yet we are eager to come, because never before was there
such a Maple Dance and never before such a council as these will be."
"You speak true words, Daganoweda," said Robert, "and the Great Bear and
I rejoice that we are adopted sons of the Iroquois and can be here."
Robert spoke from his heart. Not even his arrival at Quebec, great as
had been his anticipations and their fulfillment, had stirred in him
more interest and enthusiasm. The feeling that for the time being he was
an Iroquois in everything except his white skin grew upon him. He saw as
they saw, his pulses beat as theirs beat, and he thought as they
thought. It was not too much for him to think that the fate of North
America might turn upon the events that were to transpire within the
vale of Onondaga within the next few days. Nor was he, despite his
heated brain, and the luminous glow through which he saw everything, far
from the facts.
Robert saw that Willet, despite his years and experience, was deeply
stirred also, and the dark eyes of Tayoga glittered, as well they might,
since the people who were the greatest in all the world to him were
about to deliberate on their fate and that of others.
The three, side by side, their hearts beating hard, advanced slowly and
with dignity through the groves. From many points came the sound of
singing and down the aisles of the trees they saw young girls in
festival attire. All the foliage was in deepest green and the sky was
the soft but brilliant blue of early spring. The air seemed to be
charged with electricity, because all had a tense and expectant feeling.
For Robert, so highly imaginative, the luminous glow deepened. He had
studied much in the classics, after the fashion of the time, in the
school at Albany, and his head was filled with the old Greek and Roman
learning. Now he saw the ancient symbolism reproduced in the great
forests of North America by the nations of the Hodenosaunee, who had
never heard of Greece or Rome, nor, to him, were the religion and poetry
of the Iroquois inferior in power and beauty, being much closer kin than
the gods of Greece and Rome to his own Christian beliefs.
"Manitou favors us," said Tayoga, looking up at the soft blue velvet of
the sky. "Gaoh, the spirit of the Winds, moves but gently in his home,
Dayodadogowah."
He looked toward the west, because it was there that Gaoh, who had the
bent figure and weazened face of an old man, always sat, Manitou having
imprisoned him with the elements, and having confined him to one place.
In the beautiful Iroquois mythology, Gaoh often struggled to release
himself, though never with success. Sometimes his efforts were but mild,
and then he produced gentle breezes, but when he fought fiercely for
freedom the great storms blew and tore down the forests.
"Gaoh is not very restless today," continued Tayoga. "He struggles but
lightly, and the wind from the west is soft upon our faces."
"And it brings the perfume of flowers and of tender young leaves with
it, Tayoga," said Willet. "It's a wonderful world and I'm just a boy
today, standing at its threshold."
"And even though war may come, perhaps Manitou will smile upon us," said
Tayoga. "The Three Sisters whom Hawenneu, who is the same to the white
man as Manitou, gave to us, the spirit of the Corn, the spirit of the
Squash and the spirit of the Bean will abide with us and give us plenty.
The spirits in the shape of beautiful young girls hover over us. We
cannot see them, but they are there."
He looked up and shadows passed over their heads. To the mystic soul of
the young Onondaga they were the spirits of the three sisters who
typified abundance, and Robert himself quivered. He still saw with the
eyes and felt with the heart of an Iroquois.
Both he and Tayoga were conscious that the spirits were everywhere about
them. All the elements and all the powers of nature were symbolized and
typified. The guardians of fire, earth, water, healing, war, the chase,
love, winter, summer and a multitude of others, floated in the air. The
trees themselves had spirits and identity and all the spirits who
together constituted the Honochenokeh were the servants and assistants
of Hawenneyu. To the eyes of Tayoga that saw not and yet saw, it was a
highly peopled world, and there was meaning in everything, even in the
fall of the leaf.
Tayoga presently put his fingers to his lips and uttered a long mellow
whistle. A whistle in reply came from a grove just ahead, and fourteen
men, all of middle years or beyond, emerged into view. Though elderly,
not one among them showed signs of weakness. They were mostly tall, they
held themselves very erect, and their eyes were of uncommon keenness and
penetration. They were the fourteen sachems of the Onondagas, and at
their head was the first in rank, Tododaho, a name that never ceased to
exist, being inherited from the great chief who founded the League
centuries before, and being passed on from successor to successor. Close
to him came Tonessaah, whose name also lasted forever and who was the
hereditary adviser of Tododaho, and near him walked Daatgadose and the
others.
Tayoga, Robert and Willet stopped, and the great chief, Tododaho, a man
of splendid presence, in the full glory of Iroquois state costume, gave
them welcome. The sight of Tayoga, of lofty birth, of the clan of the
Bear, of the nation Onondaga, was particularly pleasing to his eyes. It
was well that the young warriors, who some day would be chiefs to lead
in council and battle, should be present. And the coming of the white
man and the white lad, who were known to be trusted friends of the
Hodenosaunee, was welcome also.
The three, each in turn, made suitable replies, and Robert, his gift of
golden speech moving him, spoke a little longer than the others. He made
a free use of metaphor and allegory, telling how dear were the
prosperity and happiness of the Hodenosaunee to his soul, and he felt
every word he said. Charged with the thoughts and impressions of an
Iroquois, the fourteen chiefs were the quintessence of dignity and
importance to him, and when they smiled and nodded approval of his
youthful effort his heart was lifted up. Then he, Tayoga and Willet
bowed low to these men who in very truth were the keepers of the council
fire of the Hodenosaunee, and whose word might sway the destinies of
North America, and, bowing, passed on that they might rest in the Long
House, as became three great warriors who had valiantly done their duty
in the forest when confronted by their enemies, and who had come to do
another and sacred duty in the vale of Onondaga.
Young warriors were their escort into one of the great log houses, which
in their nature were much like the community houses found at a later day
in the far southwest. The building they entered was a full hundred and
twenty feet in length and about forty feet broad, and it had five fires,
each built in the center of its space. The walls and roof were of poles
thatched with bark, and there were no windows, but over each fire was a
circular opening in the roof where the air entered and the smoke went
out. If rain or storm came these orifices were covered with great
pieces of bark.
On the long sides of the walls extended platforms about six feet wide,
covered with furs and skins where the warriors slept. Overhead was a
bark canopy on top of which they placed their possessions. About a dozen
warriors were in the house, all lying down, but they rose and greeted
the three. Berths were assigned to them at once, food and water were
brought, and Robert, weary from the long march, decided that he would
sleep.
"I think I'll do the same," said Willet, "and then we'll be fresh for
what's coming. Tayoga, I suppose, will want to see his kin first."
Tayoga nodded, and presently disappeared. Then Robert and Willet took
their places upon the bark platforms and were soon asleep, not awakening
until the next morning when they went forth and found that the
excitement in the valley had increased. Tayoga came to them at once and
told them that Sanundathawata, the council of repentance, was about to
be held. The dawn was just appearing, and as the sun rose the sachems of
the Onondagas would proceed to the council grove and receive the sachems
of the allied nations.
"You will wish to see the ceremony," he said.
"Of course, of course!" said Robert, eagerly, who found that with the
coming of a new day he was as much an Iroquois in spirit as ever. Nor
could he see that Willet was less keen about it and the three proceeded
promptly to the council grove where a multitude was already hastening.
There was, too, a great buzz of talk, as the Iroquois here in the vale,
the very heart of their country, did not show the taciturnity in which
the red man so often takes refuge in the presence of the white.
The fourteen Onondaga chiefs, Tododaho at their head and Tonessaah at
his right, were gathered in the grove, and the warriors of the allied
nations approached, headed by their chiefs, nine for the Mohawks, ten
for the Oneidas, nine for the Cayugas, and eight for the Senecas, while
the Tuscaroras, who were a new nation in the League, had none at all,
but spoke through their friends, the Oneidas, within whose lands they
had been allowed to settle. And when the roll of the nations of the
Hodenosaunee was called it was not the Onondagas, Keepers of the Council
Fire, who were called first, although they were equal in honor, and
leaders in council, but the fierce and warlike Mohawks. Then came the
Onondagas, after them the numerous Senecas, followed by the Oneidas,
with the Cayugas next and the sachemless Tuscaroras last, but filled
with pride that they, wanderers from their ancient lands, and not large
in numbers, had shown themselves so valiant and enduring that the
greatest of all Indian leagues, the Hodenosaunee, should be willing to
admit them as a nation.
Behind the sachems stood the chiefs, the two names not being synonymous
among the Iroquois, and although the name of the Mohawks was called
first the Onondagas were masters of the ceremonies, were, in fact, the
priests of the Hodenosaunee, and their first chief, Tododaho, was the
first chief of all the League. Yet the Senecas, who though superior in
numbers were inferior in chiefs, also had an office, being Door Keepers
of the Long House, while the Onondagas were the keepers in the larger
sense. The eighth sachem of the Senecas, Donehogaweh, had the actual
physical keeping of the door, when the fifty sachems met within, and he
also had an assistant who obeyed all his orders, and who, upon occasion,
acted as a herald or messenger. But the Onondaga sachem, Honowenato,
kept the wampum.
The more Robert saw of the intertwined religious, military and political
systems of the Hodenosaunee, the more he admired them, and he missed
nothing as the Onondaga sachems received their brother sachems of the
allied tribes, all together being known as the Hoyarnagowar, while the
chiefs who were elective were known collectively as the Hasehnowaneh.
Robert, Willet, and Tayoga, who was yet too young to have a part in the
ceremonies, stood on one side with the crowd and watched with the most
intense interest. Among the nine Mohawk sachems they recognized
Dayohogo, who had given Robert the name Dagaeoga, and the lad resolved
to see him later and renew their friendship.
Meanwhile the thirty-six visiting sachems formed themselves in a circle,
with Tododaho, highest of the Onondagas in rank, among them, and facing
the sun which was rising in a golden sea above the eastern hills.
Presently the Onondaga lifted his hand and the hum and murmur in the
great crowd that looked on ceased. Then starting towards the north the
sachems moved with measured steps around the circle three times. Every
one of them carried with him a bundle of fagots, and in this case half
of the bundle was red and half white. When they stopped each sachem put
his bundle of fagots on the ground, and sat down before it, while an
assistant sachem came and stood behind him. Tododaho took flint and
steel from his pouch, set fire first to his own fagots and then to all
the others, after which he took the pipe of peace, lighted it from one
of the fires, and, drawing upon it three times, blew one puff of smoke
toward the center of the heavens, another upon the ground, and the last
directly toward the rising sun.
"He gives thanks," whispered Tayoga, to Robert, "first to Manitou, who
has kept us alive, next to our great mother, the Earth, who has produced
the food that we eat and who sends forth the water that we drink, and
last to the Sun, who lights and warms us."
Robert thought it a beautiful ceremony, full of idealism, and he nodded
his thanks to Tayoga while he still watched. Tododaho passed the pipe to
the sachem on his right, who took the three puffs in a similar manner,
and thus it was passed to all, the entire act requiring a long time, but
at its end the fourteen Onondaga sachems and the thirty-six visiting
sachems sat down together and under the presidency of Tododaho the
council was opened.
"But little will be done today," said Tayoga. "It is merely what you
call at the Albany school a preliminary. The really great meeting will
be after the Maple Dance, and then we shall know what stand the
Hodenosaunee will take in the coming war."
Robert turned away and came face to face with St. Luc. He had known that
the chevalier was somewhere in the vale of Onondaga, but in his
absorption in the Iroquois ceremonies he had forgotten about him. Now he
realized with full force that he had come to meet the Frenchman and to
measure himself against him. Yet he could not hide from himself a
certain gladness at seeing him and it was increased by St. Luc's frank
and gay manner.
"I was sure that we should soon meet again, Mr. Lennox," he said, "and
it has come to pass as I predicted and hoped. And you too, Mr. Willet! I
greet you both."
He offered a hand to each, and the hunter, as well as Robert, shook it
without hesitation.
"You reached Quebec and fulfilled your mission?" he said, giving Robert
a keen look of inquiry.
"Yes, but not without event," replied the youth.
"I take it from your tone that the event was of a stirring nature."
"It was rather a chain of events. The Ojibway chief, Tandakora, whom we
first saw with you, objected to our presence in the woods."
St. Luc frowned and then laughed.
"For that I am sorry," he said. "I would have controlled the Ojibway if
I could, but he is an unmitigated savage. He left me, and did what he
chose. I hope you do not hold me responsible for any attacks he may have
made upon you, Mr. Lennox."
"Not at all, Monsieur, but as you see, we have survived everything and
have taken no hurt. Quebec also, a great and splendid city, was not
without stirring event, not to say danger."
"But not to heralds, for such I take you and Mr. Willet and Tayoga to
have been."
"A certain Pierre Boucher, a great duelist, and if you will pardon me
for saying it, a ruthless bravo, also was disposed to make trouble for
us."
"I know Boucher. He is what you say. But since you are here safe and
unhurt, as you have just reminded me, you escaped all the snares he set
for you."
"True, Monsieur de St. Luc, but we have the word that the fowler may
fall into his own snare."
"Your meaning escapes me."
"Boucher, the duelist and bravo, will never make trouble for anybody
else."
"You imply that he is dead? Boucher dead! How did he die?"
"A man may be a great swordsman, and he may defeat many others, but the
time usually comes when he will meet a better swordsman than himself."
"Yourself! Why, you're but a lad, Mr. Lennox, and skillful as you may be
you're not seasoned enough to beat such a veteran as Boucher!"
"That is true, but there is another who was."
He nodded toward the hunter and the chevalier's eyes opened wide.
"And you, a hunter," he said, "could defeat Pierre Boucher, who has been
accounted the master swordsman! There is more in this than meets the
eye!"
He stared at Willet, who met his gaze firmly. Then he shrugged his
shoulders and said:
"I'm not one to pry into the secrets of another, but I did not think
there was any man in America who was a match for Boucher. Well, he is
gone to another world, and let us hope that he will be a better man in
it than he was in this. Meanwhile we'll return to the business that
brings us all here. I speak of it freely, since every one of us knows it
well. I wish to bring in the Hodenosaunee on the side of France. The
interests of these red nations truly lie with His Majesty King Louis,
since you British colonists will spread over their lands and will drive
them out."
"Your pardon, Chevalier de St. Luc, but it is not so. The English have
always been the good friends of the Six Nations, and have never broken
treaties with them."
"No offense was meant, Mr. Lennox. But we do not wish to waste our
energies here debating with each other. We will save our skill and
strength for the council of the fifty, where I know you will present the
cause of the British king in such manner that its slender justification
will seem better than it really is."
Robert laughed.
"A stab and praise at the same time," he said. "No, Monsieur de St. Luc,
I have no wish to quarrel with you now or at any other time."
"And while we're in the vale of Onondaga we'll be friends."
"If you wish it to be so."
"And you too, Mr. Willet?"
"I've nothing against you, Chevalier de St. Luc, although I shall fight
the cause of the king whom you represent here. On the other hand I may
say that I like you and I wish nothing better than to be friends with
you here."
"Then it is settled," said St. Luc in a tone of relief. "It is a good
way, I think. Why be enemies before we must? I shall see, too, that my
good Dubois becomes one of us, and together we will witness the Maple
Dance."
St. Luc's manner continued frank, and Robert could not question his
sincerity. He was glad that the chevalier had proposed the temporary
friendship and he was glad, too, that Willet approved of it, since he
had such a great respect for the opinion of the hunter. St. Luc, now
that the treaty was made, bore himself as one of their party, and the
dark Canadian, Dubois, who was not far away, also accepted the situation
in its entirety. Tayoga, too, confirmed it thoroughly and now that St.
Luc was with him on a footing of friendship Robert felt more deeply than
ever the charm of his manner and talk. It seemed to him that the
chevalier had the sincerity and honesty of de Galisonnière, with more
experience and worldly wisdom, his experience and worldly wisdom
matching those of de Courcelles with a great superiority in sincerity
and honesty.
The three quickly became the five. St Luc and Dubois being accepted were
accepted without reserve, although Dubois seldom spoke, seeming to
consider himself the shadow of his chief. The next day the five stood
together and witnessed the confessions of sins in the council grove,
the religious ceremony that always preceded the Maple Dance.
Tododaho spoke to the sachems, the chiefs and the multitude upon their
crimes and faults, the necessity for repentance and of resolution to do
better in the future. Robert saw but little difference between his
sermon and that of a minister in the Protestant faith in which he had
been reared. Manitou was God and God was Manitou. The Iroquois and the
white men had traveled by different roads, but they had arrived at
practically the same creed and faith. The feeling that for the time
being he was an Iroquois in a white man's skin was yet strong upon him.
Many of the Indian sachems and chiefs were men of great eloquence, and
the speech of Tododaho amid such surroundings, with the breathless
multitude listening, was impressive to the last degree. Its solemnity
was increased, when he held aloft a belt of white wampum, and,
enumerating his own sins, asked Manitou to forgive him. When he had
finished he exclaimed, "Naho," which meant, "I have done." Then he
passed the wampum to Tonessaah, who also made his confession, and all
the other sachems and chiefs did the same, the people, too, joining with
intense fervor in the manifestation.
A huge banquet of all that forest, river and field afforded was spread
the next morning, and at noon athletic games, particularly those with
the ball, in which the red man excelled long before the white man came,
began and were played with great energy and amid intense excitement. At
the same time the great Feather Dance, religious in its nature, was
given by twelve young warriors and twelve young girls, dressed in their
most splendid costumes.
Night came, and the festival was still in progress. What the Indian did
he did with his whole heart, and all his strength. Darkness compelled
the ball games to cease, but the dancing went on by the light of the
fires and fresh banquets were spread for all who cared. Robert knew that
it might last for several days and that it would be useless until the
end for either him or St. Luc to mention the subject so dear to their
hearts. Hence came an agreement of silence, and all the while their
friendship grew.
It is true that official enemies may be quite different in private life,
and Robert found that he and St. Luc had much in common. There was a
certain kindred quality of temperament. They had the same courage, the
same spirit of optimism, the same light and easy manner of meeting a
crisis, with the same deadly earnestness and concentration concealed
under that careless appearance. It was apparent that Robert, who had
spent so much of his life in the forest, was fitted for great events and
the stage upon which men of the world moved. He had felt it in Quebec,
when he came into contact with what was really a brilliant court, with
all the faults and vices of a court, one of the main objects of which
was pleasure, and he felt it anew, since he was in the constant
companionship of a man who seemed to him to have more of that knightly
spirit and chivalry for which France was famous than any other he had
ever met. St. Luc knew his Paris and the forest equally well. Nor was
he a stranger to London and Vienna or to old Rome that Robert hoped to
see some day. It seemed to Robert that he had seen everything and done
everything, not that he boasted, even by indirection, but it was drawn
from him by the lad's own questions, back of which was an intense
curiosity.
Robert noticed also that Willet, to whom he owed so much, never
intervened. Apparently he still approved the growing friendship of the
lad and the Frenchman, and Tayoga, too, showed himself not insensible to
St Luc's charm. Although he was now among his own people, and in the
sacred vale of which they were the keepers, he still stayed in the
community house with Robert and sought the society of his white friends,
including St. Luc.
"I had thought," said Robert to the hunter the third morning after their
arrival, "that you would prefer for us to show a hostile face to St.
Luc, who is here to defeat our purpose, just as we are here to defeat
his."
"Nothing is to be gained by a personal enmity," replied the hunter. "We
are the enemies not of St. Luc, but of his nation. We will meet him
fairly as he will meet us fairly, and I see good reasons why you and he
should be friends."
"But in the coming war he's likely to be one of our ablest and most
enterprising foes."
"That's true, Robert, but it does not change my view. Brave men should
like brave men, and if it is war I hope you and St. Luc will not meet in
battle."
"You, too, seem to take an interest in him, Dave."
"I like him," said Willet briefly. Then he shrugged his shoulders, and
changed the subject.
The great festival went on, and the agents of Corlear and Onontio were
still kept waiting. The sachems would not hear a word from either. As
Robert understood it, they felt that the Maple Dance might not be
celebrated again for years. These old men, warriors and statesmen both,
saw the huge black clouds rolling up and they knew they portended a
storm, tremendous beyond any that North America had known. France and
England, and that meant their colonies, too, would soon be locked fast
in deadly combat, and the Hodenosaunee, who were the third power, must
look with all their eyes and think with all their strength.
While the young warriors and the maidens sang and danced without
ceasing, the sachems and the chiefs sat far into the night, and as
gravely as the Roman Senate, considered the times and their needs.
Runners, long of limb, powerful of chest, and bare to the waist, came
from all points of the compass and reported secretly. One from Albany
said that Corlear and the people there and at New York were talking of
war, but were not preparing for it. Another, a Mohawk who came out of
the far east, said that Shirley, the Governor of Massachusetts, was
thinking of war and preparing for it too. A third, a Tuscarora, who had
traveled many days from the south, said that Dinwiddie, the Governor of
Virginia, was already acting. He was sending men, led by a tall youth
named Washington, into the Ohio country, where the French had already
gone to build forts. An Onondaga out of the north said that Quebec and
Montreal were alive with military preparations. Onontio was giving to
the French Indians muskets, powder, bullets and blankets in a profusion
never known before.
The red fagots were rapidly displacing the white, and the secret
councils of the fifty sachems were filled with anxiety, but they hid all
their disquietude from the people, and much of it from the chiefs. But,
to their eyes, all the heavens were scarlet and the world was about to
be in upheaval. It was a time for every sachem to walk with cautious
steps and use his last ounce of wisdom.
On the fourth night a powerful ally of St. Luc's arrived, although the
chevalier had not called him, and did not know until the next day that
he had come. He was a tall, thin man of middle years, wrapped in a black
robe with a cross upon his breast, and he had traveled alone through the
wilderness from Quebec to the vale of Onondaga. He carried no weapon but
under the black robe beat a heart as dauntless as that of Robert, or of
Willet, or of Tayoga, and an invincible faith that had already moved
mountains.
Onondaga men and women received Father Philibert Drouillard, and knelt
for his willing blessing. Despite the memories of Champlain and
Frontenac, despite the long and honored alliance with the English, the
French missionaries, whom no hardships could stop, had made converts
among the Onondagas, an enlightened nation with kindly and gentle
instincts, and of all these missionaries Father Drouillard had the most
tenacious and powerful will. And piety and patriotism could dwell
together in his heart. The love of his church and the love of his race
burned there with an equal brightness. He, too, had seen the clouds of
war gathering, thick and black, and knowing the power of the
Hodenosaunee, and that they yet waited, he had hastened to them to win
them for France. He was burning with zeal and he would have gone forth
the very night of his arrival to talk, but he was so exhausted that he
could not move, and he slept deeply in one of the houses, while his
faithful converts watched.
Robert encountered the priest early the next morning, and the meeting
was wholly unexpected by him, although the Frenchman gave no sign of
surprise and perhaps felt none.
"Father Drouillard!" he exclaimed. "I believed you to be in Canada! I
did not think there was any duty that could call you to the vale of
Onondaga!"
The stern face of the priest relaxed into a slight smile. This youth,
though of the hostile race, was handsome and winning, and as Father
Drouillard knew, he had a good heart.
"Holy Church sends us, its servants, poor and weak though we may be, on
far and different errands," he said. "We seek the wheat even among the
stones, and there are those, here in the vale of Onondaga itself, who
watch for my coming."
Robert recalled that there were Catholic converts among the Onondagas, a
fact that he had forgotten for the time, and he realized at once what a
powerful factor Father Drouillard would be in the fight against him.
"The Chevalier de St. Luc has been here for some time," he said,
"waiting until the fifty sachems are ready to hear him in council, when
he will speak for France. Mr. Willet and I are also waiting to speak for
England. But the Chevalier de St. Luc and I are the best of friends, and
I hope, Father Drouillard, that you, who have come also to uphold the
cause of France, will not look upon me as an enemy, but as one,
unfitting though he may be, who wishes to do what he can for his
country."
Father Drouillard smiled again.
"Ah, my son," he said, "you are a good lad. You bore yourself well in
Quebec, and I have naught against you, save that you are not of our
race."
"And for that, reverend sir, you cannot blame me."
Father Drouillard smiled for the third time. It was not often that he
smiled three times in one day, and again he reflected that this was a
handsome and most winning lad.
"Peace, my son!" he said. "Protestant you are and Catholic am I, English
you are and French am I, but no ill wind can ever blow between you and
me. We are but little children in the hands of the Omnipotent and we can
only await His decree."
Robert told Willet a little later that Father Drouillard had come, and
the hunter looked very grave.
"Our task has doubled," he said. "Now we fight both St. Luc and Father
Drouillard, the army and the church."