"Why do you say 'for a time'!" I asked.
"Because I mean it," he retorted fiercely. "Think you Ta-wan-ne-ars is ignorant because he is an Indian! But I do my brother an injustice there, for he does not look down upon the Indian as do so many white men.
"No, Ormerod, I tell you it is so. Today the Indian is still strong. He has the protection of the forest. The white man foolishly has given him guns to fight with, and steel axes and knives. But the Indian grows weaker; the white man grows stronger. In the end the Indian must go."
"The People of the Long House?" I cried. "'Tis impossible after the friendship you have shown us."
He eyed me gloomily.
"Friendship counts at the moment; strength counts in the future," he said. "That is the white man's way. Have I not lived amongst them?"
He leaned forward until his face was close to mine.
"When all else fails the white man will use fire-water, what you call rum and the French call brandy. The red man can not resist it—and it ruins him. He becomes a red animal."
"But——"
He would not let me speak.