“The friendship chain between the English and the Six Nations is strong,” said White Thunder. “The men of Onontio (which was the name for the French governor of Canada) are not wanted on the Ohio. The English bring us goods and that is enough.”
“We hear that the English claim all the land on one side of the Ohio and the French claim all the land on the other side,” replied Big Bear. “Then where does the Indian’s land lie? But seeing you will not strike the English with us, we will all go on to the trading house of the Englishman Cresap on the River Potomac. He will give us presents and fire-water to keep out the wet.”
That was all right. The Delawares and the Mingos with Robert the Hunter marched on through the rain. The Black Rifle and the rain had spoiled the war trail and the hearts of the Delawares were heavy.
The law of the forest seemed to be tit for tat. The Indians killed other Indians and white persons; the white men killed Indians. As to the French, Robert knew little, except he had heard that the French, who lived in the north, would shut the English traders from the Ohio Country.
They hastened southward, and the next noon a scout came back with word that he had seen a company of English. In these years before the War of the Revolution all the white men of the Colonies were English to the Indian, for America was a British province.
“How many?” asked Big Bear.
“The fingers of two hands.”
“What are they doing?”
“They are camped in the rain above the house of the Englishman Cresap.”