He bowed his head in assent.
"I will tell, brother. Tawannears speaks also for Corlaer. Is it not so, Peter?"
The big Dutchman's mouth opened to emit a shrill "Ja."
"First, my brother, Ormerod, whom we of the Hodenosaunee* call Otetiani," the Indian resumed, "I will strive to answer the questions that you asked. I bring you greetings from your foster-father, my uncle, the Royaneh** Donehogaweh. He bids me say to you that his heart longs for his white son. He keeps a place always prepared for you in his lodge. He took counsel with me before I left the Long House, and advised me to seek you out. All is well with my people. The Western Door is secure. No enemies have challenged it. But Tawannears has been idle, and so his thoughts have turned to the hunger in his heart, that my brother will remember was there in other days."
* People of the Long House.
** Hereditary chief, erroneously called sachem.
He rose to his feet, like all Indian orators, unable to find comfort in delivery whilst seated. Arms folded across his naked chest, his eagle's-feather well-nigh touching the ceiling, he towered above us, an incarnate spirit of the Wilderness.
"My brother has not forgotten that once Tawannears loved a maid of his people, daughter of your foster-father, who was called Gahano, and was stolen from him by a French dog, and who died that Tawannears might live.
"My brother knows that there is an old tale of my people that the Lost Souls of the dead go to the Land of the Lost Souls which is ruled by Ataentsic* and her grandson Jousekeha, which is beyond Dayedadogowar, the Great Home Of The Winds, beyond Haniskaonogeh, the Dwelling Place of The Evil-minded, ay, beyond the setting sun.
* She Whose Body Is Ancient.