But even as I asked, a sense of foreboding gripped me.
"I do not know, brother. Let us hasten and find out."
We pushed our way through the masses of warriors already beginning the war-dance, and ran between the vegetable gardens toward Ka-na-ta-go-wa, the roofs of whose long houses showed above the tree-tops of the lower ground.
XXVI
THE EVIL WOOD
We found the messenger squatting placidly by the Council-House under the guard of several Onondagas, who obviously did not relish the sight of a Frenchman in their midst during the sitting of the Ho-yar-na-go-war. He put aside his pipe as we approached and stood up. But for his white skin, which was rather dingy under a coating of tan and dirt, 'twould have been difficult to distinguish him from the savages. He was of the usual type of courrier du bois, but with an unusually repellant countenance.
"You have a message for me?" I said.
"Are you Monsieur Ormerod?" he replied in his peasant's patois.
"I am."
He examined me with a sidewise squint out of his shifty eyes, and fished with one hand in the bosom of his filthy leather shirt.