“His Excellency the General bids me to say to Scarouady that the Mingos are welcome,” continued Washington, to Robert. “He has heard that they are great warriors. They shall be well rewarded.”
“I am American. I stay with Washington,” Robert pleaded hopefully.
“No,” replied Washington. “I stay with the General, for he has asked me to. You shall be American, if you like, and help show the way with Gist and Scarouady and the Virginians. I’d rather do that myself,” he added quickly.
After this there was much going on. General Braddock (who was a stout, heavy, red-faced old man) invited Scarouady and White Thunder and other chiefs to his tent. He gave presents and exchanged speeches, which Andrew Montour translated.
He had the drums beat and the fifes play, and the great guns fired; and sent a bullock to the camp, for a feast.
The Mingos invited the English to come over, and danced the war-dance for them. The English, very stiff in their red coats with high collars, and their white skin-tight breeches and their high, black hats, seemed to think that the Mingos were funny, and stared at them through pieces of glass fitted to one eye, and laughed and clapped their hands.
But the Mingos had only dressed for war, too. Their faces were painted red and black and yellow, their heads were shaven clean except for the tuft of greased scalp-lock, and their ears were hung with rings and pendants of shells. They were no funnier than the English themselves.
King Shingis and King Beaver and Chief Killbuck of the Delawares came in. They feasted, and talked with the General; and when they went away again they had promised to meet the English on the march, with many warriors. But Scarouady did not believe this.
“Their hearts are French,” he said. “Now they will go to Duquesne. We should march fast, and strike.”
The General took a long time to get ready. Then, on a sudden, he said that he could not feed so many warriors and women and children. Let ten warriors stay, to help him find the enemy; the other Mingos must go home.