"What is it?" I gasped.
"Death," he said grimly. "'Tis the Snake Which Rattles, and its bite
is fatal. Yet it is an honorable foe, for it always gives warning
before it strikes. So let us permit it to depart in peace."
The evening of the third day we camped in the Oneida country at the
base of a hill, which the trail encircles and which for that reason
was called Nun-da-da-sis.[2] Here we had a stroke of what turned out
afterward to be rare good luck. Whilst we were making camp a group
of five canoes of the birch-bark which is used by other nations than
the Iroquois[3] approached from up-stream, and their occupants camped
beside us.
[2] "Around the Hill;" present site of Utica, N.Y.
[3] There were very few birches in Iroquois territory. They employed
instead red elm and hickory bark, which were much heavier.
These Indians were Messesagues, whose country lay between the two
great inland seas, the Erie and Huron Lakes. They were on their way
to Fort Orange or Albany to trade their Winter catch of furs, which
lay baled in the canoes. Ta-wan-ne-ars, as Warden of the Western
Door, had held intercourse with these people before and understood
their language.
They told him that they had had trouble with the Sieur de Tonty,
commander of the French trading-post of Le De Troit,[4] which had
been established in their country; and that in consequence de Tonty
had been obliged to flee and they had decided to shift their trade to
the English.[5] Ta-wan-ne-ars encouraged them in this design and
described to them the high quality and quantity of the goods they
might expect to get in exchange for their furs at Albany.
[4] Detroit, Mich.
[5] De Tonty was obliged to abandon his post temporarily about this
time.
On the fourth day the trail abandoned the head-waters of the Mohawk,
fast shallowing in depth, and headed westward across the mile-wide
divide of land which separates the waters flowing into the Mohawk and
Hudson's River from those flowing into Lake Ontario and the St.
Lawrence River of Canada. This passage or carrying-place between the
waters was called Da-ya-hoo-wa-quat,[6] and we met several parties of
Indians carrying their canoes and packs from one stream to the other.
[6] "Place for Carrying Boats;" present site of Rome, N.Y.
I had my first view of the long houses of the Iroquois at the Oneida
Castle, Ga-no-a-lo-hale,[7] which was situated on the Oneida Lake.
They were impressive buildings, sixty, eighty, one hundred and
sometimes one hundred and twenty feet in length and from twelve to
fifteen or twenty feet wide. We went as a matter of course to the
lodgings of the Oneida Wolves; of whom Ta-wan-ne-ars, according to
the Iroquois code, was a blood-brother; and they placed at our
disposition a guest-chamber, the first next to the entrance of the
Ga-no-sote,[8] together with all the firewood and food which we
required and an aged squaw to cook and wait upon us.
[7] "A head on a pole."
[8] Bark house.
Our chamber was perhaps twelve or fourteen feet in length and twelve
feet across. On each side there was a shelf or bunk of bark placed
on wooden sticks, raised about two feet from the beaten-clay floor
and covered with skins, more or less infested with vermin.[9] Above
these bunks again were other shelves for holding clothing, weapons or
provisions. The passageway between the bunks was the common entry to
the house.
[9] I am obliged to confess I had lice throughout my stay amongst the
Indians. 'Twas impossible to be clean.--H.O.
In the middle was a fire-hole where our squaw cooked. In the
remainder of the length of the house there was a fire for every four
families, and when all were cooking at once--as was frequently the
case--the smoke that escaped through the vents in the roof was
negligible.
On the other hand, the houses were stanchly constructed and
weather-proof, and they demonstrated strikingly the clannishness and
community spirit which were the outstanding characteristics of the
Iroquois. They thought, not as families or individuals, as most
savage or barbarous people do, but as a people, as a clan, a tribe or
a confederacy.
In this, as Ta-wan-ne-ars remarked in our many talks on this and
kindred subjects, lay the secret of their political and military
success. It enabled them to concentrate, when they wished, an
overwhelming force against any other tribes, and a force which could
be directed in the joint interests of the League. Only the French or
English could withstand them, and their aid must tip the balance in
favor of the white nation whose cause they espoused.
From the Oneida Castle the Great Trail bore westward past
De-o-sa-da-ya-ah,[10] which lay on the boundaries of the Onondagas,
whose beautiful valley, with its mirror lake, was the fairest country
I have ever seen unless it be the matchless home of the Senecas. The
trail led us through the three villages of the tribe, which were
scattered along the banks of the Onondaga River northward of the lake.
[10] Deep Spring.
At Ka-na-ta-go-wa burned the sacred Council-Fire of the Long House
which their traditions claimed had been lighted by the godlike
Founders of the League, the two _roy-an-ehs_, Da-ga-no-weda and
Ha-yo-wont-ha, whose places in the Ho-yar-na-go-war[11] have never
been filled because the Great Spirit can not create again men worthy
to hold their titles.
[11] Literally, Counselors of the People--the ruling body of the
League.
Ordinarily, Ta-wan-ne-ars would have halted on his way to pay due
reverence to the shrine and to To-do-da-ho, the senior of all the
fifty _roy-an-ehs_ of the League, whose wisdom and prestige are
inherited from the first of the name, him who made practical by his
deeds the conceptions of the Founders. But we were in haste;
Ta-wan-ne-ars was anxious that no news of our journey should escape;
and he pressed on, sending word by a brother Wolf to To-do-da-ho of
the circumstances which governed his action.
It was a rich country which we traversed, a country fit to be the
home of a race of warriors. The forest always was king, but the
ingenuity of the inhabitants forced it back whenever they had need.
In clearings by the streams were vast gardens of corn, pumpkins,
melons, squashes and beans. In open spaces were luxuriant orchards
of fruit-trees. The people we met, in the villages where we
sometimes slept and ate or along the shaded slot of the trail, were
pleasant and courteous. They eyed me curiously, but there was never
any unseemly disregard of manners. Even the children were polite and
hospitable.
"_Qua,_" would be our greeting. "You have traveled far, brother of
the Wolf Clan, you and your white friends. Sit by our fire and
partake of our food and tobacco, and perhaps when you are rested you
will tell us what you have seen on your way."
"What do you think of my people, Ormerod?" asked Ta-wan-ne-ars one
day as we sat on a hillside above the north end of the Cayuga Lake
and looked down on the village of Ga-ya-ga-an-ha.[12]
[12] Near present site of Auburn, N.Y.
"I think they are a people of warriors and what we call nobles," I
answered.
"That means gentlemen," he said.
"Yes, if you choose," I agreed.
"But they take scalps and have vermin in their clothes," he suggested.
"And they are kind to the stranger and fearless and generous," I
returned.
Corlaer, who usually said nothing, took his pipe from his mouth and
blinked at me.
"_Ja,_" he said. "Andt there is der same kind of fermin in Fort
Orange or New York."
We slept that night in the Cayuga village, and in the morning forded
the foot of the lake and pursued the trail westward again until it
emerged upon the north bank of the Seneca River, which we followed to
the village of Ga-nun-da-gwa[13] on the lake of that name.
[13] Site of Canandaigua, N.Y.
"Now we are in the country of the Senecas, brother," said
Ta-wan-ne-ars, when we started the next morning. "You have seen the
homes of all the other tribes, save only the Tuscaroras, who live to
the south of the Oneidas; but none of them is so fair as the valley
of Gen-nis-he-yo,[14] where my brethren dwell."
[14] Literally, "The Beautiful Valley."
And I endorsed his words without reserve on the evening of our tenth
day on the Great Trail, when we stood on the brink of the sweetest
vale in all the world--aye, more beautiful even than the sacred
valley of Onondaga--and looked across the tree-tops at the river that
wound along its center like a looping flood of silver, with the
myriad colors of the sunset tinting the hills beyond and a soft wind
wafting upward to our level the odors of the woodlands and orchards.
From a little village that was huddled on the near bank of the river
Ta-wan-ne-ars sent off that night a messenger to carry on word of our
coming. So two days later, when we had passed the Gen-nis-he-yo and
the belt of forest beyond to the Senecas' chief town,
De-o-nun-da-ga-a, it was to find ourselves expected guests. Warriors
and hunters, women and children, along the trail, hailed
Ta-wan-ne-ars and his friends; and at the gates of the palisade which
fortified the village--for it was the principal stronghold of the
Western Door--stood Do-ne-ho-ga-weh himself, the Guardian of the
Door, with his _roy-an-ehs_ and _ha-seh-no-wa-weh_[15] or chiefs,
around him.
[15] Literally, "An Elevated Name." The office of chief was elective
and in no sense hereditary or noble as was that of _roy-an-eh_, which
has been misnamed sachem.
He was a splendid-looking old man, tall as Ta-wan-ne-ars, his massive
shoulders unbent by age, his naked chest, with the vivid device of
the wolf's head, rounded like a barrel; his pendant scalp-lock shot
with gray. He and those with him were in gala dress, and the sun
sparkled on elaborate beadwork and silver and gold ornaments and
inlay of weapons.
He took one step forward as we halted, and his right arm went up in
the graceful Iroquois salute.
"_Qua_, Ta-wan-ne-ars!" his voice boomed out. "You are welcome home,
O my nephew. I can see that you have been brave against our enemies,
for you carry a string of scalps at your belt. I can see that you
have been honored, for Corlaer walks with you. I can see that you
have been fortunate, for a strange white man walks beside you who has
friendship in his face.
"Enter, O my nephew, with your white friends. The Council-House is
made ready for them, and you will dwell with them a while until their
feet have become accustomed to the new paths and their eyes see
straight the unfamiliar things about them. We are eager to hear of
your experiences and the deeds you have done. Enter!"
He turned on his heel and walked before us, and those who had
accompanied him fell into single file behind us. So we paraded
through the village--or rather I should say town, for it contained
many thousand people--until we reached a house in the center where
burned the tribal Council-Fire and where ambassadors and
distinguished guests were lodged.
This house was oblong, almost square. The _roy-an-ehs_, chiefs and
elders filed into it at our heels and arranged themselves around the
fire in the center. Then squaws fetched in clay dishes of meats and
vegetables of several kinds, as well as fruit, which they set down at
intervals around the circle, and at a signal from Do-ne-ho-ga-weh
everybody began to eat, each one dipping his fingers into whichever
dish was nearest or most to his liking, but all governed by the
utmost deference toward the wishes of their neighbors.
At the conclusion of the meal Do-ne-ho-ga-weh lighted a ceremonial
pipe, carved of soapstone, with a long wooden mouthpiece decorated
with beads and small, bright-colored feathers. He blew one puff
toward the ground, one puff toward the sky and one toward each of the
four quarters. Then he passed it to Ta-wan-ne-ars on his right hand,
and Ta-wan-ne-ars gravely puffed it for a moment, and handed it to
me. I did likewise, and gave it to Corlaer, who handed it on to the
next man, and so it went the rounds of the fire.
There was a moment's silence, and then Ta-wan-ne-ars began the
account of his travels, speaking slowly and without oratorical
effect. Afterward he told me what he and the others had said. He
made no references to our mission, but he described his journey to
New York, his interview with Ga-en-gwa-ra-go--this impressed his
audience mightily, and they applauded by a succession of gutteral
grunts--his meeting with me; the arrival of Murray and de Veulle and
its meaning; our journey homeward and the fight with the Cahnuagas.
"_Na-ho!_" he concluded.
Again there was a pause. Then Do-ne-ho-ga-weh rose.
"We thank you, O my nephew," he said. "You have indeed honored us
and yourself, and your white friends have shown themselves to be
brave men. Now we will retire so that you may rest."
He walked out, and the others followed.
"What next?" I asked as Ta-wan-ne-ars filled his pipe.
The Seneca smiled.
"Soon we shall have a real talk," he said, and reached for a live
coal.
"A real talk?" I repeated.
"Do-ne-ho-ga-weh knows that we could not tell him all of our tale
when so many ears were listening. He knows, too, that we are pressed
for time."
"_Ja,_" squeaked Corlaer, "der _roy-an-eh_ will come back."
An hour passed, and I began to doubt my friends' wisdom. I was
sleepy and tired. I had had overmuch of the coarse native-grown
tobacco. But in the event I was rewarded, for a shadow darkened the
entrance and the Guardian of the Western Door stood before us.
He sat between Ta-wan-ne-ars and me, and crammed tobacco into his
pipe-bowl.
"You are not sleeping, O my nephew," he commented.
"We have that upon our minds which will not let us sleep," answered
Ta-wan-ne-ars.[16]
[16] This conversation was translated for me later by
Ta-wan-ne-ars.--H.O.
"Would it ease the weight on your minds to confide your troubles in
me?"
"That is my thought, O my uncle."
Do-ne-ho-ga-weh bowed gravely to all of us.
"My ears are open," he said.
There was a pause, and Ta-wan-ne-ars put down his pipe upon the floor.
"As you know, O my uncle," he began, "I went with Corlaer to
Ga-en-gwa-ra-go to tell him of Joncaire's plans to build a stone fort
at Jagara. On the same day came this white warrior, Ormerod, whom I
call my brother, with word that Murray had defeated Ga-en-gwa-ra-go
before Go-weh-go-wa. On the same day came the Frenchman de Veulle,
who once lived for a while amongst us. Him you will remember."
The bronze mask of the _roy-an-eh's_ face was contorted for one brief
instant by a flare of passion.
"I remember him," he said simply.
"De Veulle comes from Onontio's King with a message for the Canadian
tribes, O my uncle. He and Murray and Joncaire work together to
defeat our friend Ga-en-gwa-ra-go and drive the English from the
land. Ga-en-gwa-ra-go has sent my brother Ormerod, who has lived
amongst the French and speaks their tongue, to spy out the ground at
Jagara. I go with him. After that, if we may, we shall seek the
Doom Trail and clean out the Cahnuaga dogs."
For five minutes Do-ne-ho-ga-weh smoked in silence. Then he emptied
his pipe.
"I am glad that Ga-en-gwa-ra-go keeps his eyes open, O my nephew," he
said. "But I can not understand why the English disagree amongst
themselves, so that one faction work for Onontio. However, they are
white people, and I am a red man. Perhaps that is the reason. Do
you wish my counsel?"
Ta-wan-ne-ars inclined his head.
"The Messesagues you met on the Mohawk told you that de Tonty was in
trouble. I do not think word of this can yet have reached Joncaire.
My advice is that you dress yourself as a Messesague warrior, O my
nephew, and that your white brother--whose name I can not coil my
tongue around--call himself by a French name. Then the two of you
may go to Joncaire and say that you have just come from Le de Troit
and give him the news and he will make you welcome. So you may spy
out his plans at Jagara."
"_Ja,_" assented Corlaer in English; "that is a goodt plan. You
needt a goodt plan for a fox like Joncaire. By ----, I hope you fool
him andt bring home his scalp."
"The news which Ga-en-gwa-ra-go asks for will be sufficient," replied
Ta-wan-ne-ars. "O my uncle, we thank you. Now we may sleep with
ease."
"That is well," said the _roy-an-eh_, rising.
He lifted his arm in salute.
"May Ha-wen-ne-yu, the Great Spirit, and the Ho-no-che-no-keh, his
Invisible Aids, have you in their keeping."