“Why not, Trackless? You are allies of the Yengeese, and ought to give us your aid, when it is wanted.”
“Count leaves—count Yengeese. Too much for one army. No want Onondago.”
“That may be true, possibly, for we are certainly very strong. But, how is it with the woods—are they altogether clear of red-skins, in times as troublesome as these?”
Susquesus looked grave, but he made no answer. Still, he did not endeavour to avoid the keen look I fastened on his face, but sat composed, rigid, and gazing before him. Knowing the uselessness of attempting to get anything out of an Indian, when he was indisposed to be communicative, I thought it wisest to change the discourse. This I did by making a few general inquiries as to the state of the streams, all of which were answered, when I walked away.
34 ([return])
[ Pronounced On-on-daw-ger, the latter syllable hard; or, like ga, as it is sometimes spelled. This is the name of one of the midland counties of New York. The tribe from which it is derived, in these later times, has over borne a better name for morals, than its neighbours, the Oneidas, the Mohawks, &c., &c. The Onondagoes belonged to the Six Nations.—Editor.]