They were warmly received by an eager crowd.
Since his landing in America this was the first time Oliver had entered a real village of redskins.
He was surprised to find it so superior to what he expected. Instead of ordinary bison tents, or huts made with hurdles, mud, and thatch, it consisted of admirably constructed Canadian cabins.
These cabins stood in rows, with small gardens in front, while here and there were some real Indian wigwams.
Those Canadians who had retreated with their families to the tribe of Bison Hurons had introduced these habits. Hence the rather hybrid character of the village, which was half Canadian and half Indian.
Reaching the centre of the village Numank left his companions, while Bright-eye pointed out a most comfortable looking cabin and declared it to be his home.
At the entrance stood two men leaning on their rifles. One, nearly a centenarian, but still robust and very tall, had a large white beard; his eyes still shone brightly, his complexion was the colour of brick, while his ropy muscles could be seen through his parchment skin. His expression was gentle and full of courage. This was the grandfather of the hunter, an old soldier of Montcalm.
The second was Bright-eye's father, whom he resembled in every particular except age and height.
"They indeed appear a noble couple," whispered Oliver.
"Come with me," was the laconic reply.