"I think nodt. Ta-wan-ne-ars broughdt me der wordt at Onondaga. We comedt to you as fast as we couldt."
"Ta-wan-ne-ars came because it was partly the fault of his people that the French are settled by Jagara," said the Indian.
"Yes," replied the governor. "Onontio and Joncaire first made the Oneidas drunk, and then bargained with them to sell the Senecas' land."
"They had no right to do so," assented Ta-wan-ne-ars somberly. "But now will you believe that Ta-wan-ne-ars is your friend?"
"I believe," said the governor. "But I pray you tell me why you feel for us this friendship! When I came to New York to govern the province my predecessor told me that the experiment of having you educated by the missionaries had failed, that you had returned to the forest, closer wedded than ever to Indian ways."
The Indian's face lighted up again with that grave smile which showed itself with scarcely a contraction of the muscles.
"Yes, Ga-en-gwa-ra-go, it failed to win Ta-wan-ne-ars from the ways of his people. Those ways are best for the Indian. You can not take a people like mine, who have lived in the wilderness as long as they can remember, and remake them in a few years so that they can live like white men.
"Once, your histories say, your people lived like mine. Well, I think it will take as long to bring the red man to your present ways as it has taken yourselves to reach them.
"But Ta-wan-ne-ars learned that of the two white races the English were the kindest to the Ho-de-no-sau-nee.[[4]] The French always have persecuted us. They try by most subtle means to convert us to their religion, which is not any better than our own religion. The English come to us bluntly and say, 'Be Christians,' and if we do not wish to be they let us alone.
[[4]] The people of the Long House—Indian name for Iroquois.