“No true,” answered Susquesus, shaking his head. “That trail—he Huron trail, too. Don't know red-man to say so.”
“But red-men are human as well as pale-faces. It must be seventy miles from this spot to the foot of Lake George, and your conjecture would make it necessary that a party should have travelled that distance in less than twenty-four hours, and be here some time before us.”
“We no travel him, eh?”
“I grant you that, Trackless; but we came a long bit of the road in a canoe, each and all of us sleeping, and resting ourselves, in turns. These Hurons must have come the whole distance by land.”
“No so. Huron paddle canoe well as Onondago. Lake there—canoe plenty. Why not come?”
“Do you suppose, Trackless, that any of the French Indians would venture on the lake while it was covered with our boats, as was the case last night?”
“What 'our boat' good for, eh? Carry wounded warrior—carry runaway warrior—what he care? T'ink Huron 'fraid of boat? Boat got eye, eh? Boat see; boat hear, boat shoot, eh?”
“Perhaps not; but those who were in the boats can do all this, and would be apt, at least, to speak to a strange canoe.”
“Boat speak my canoe, eh? Onondago canoe, strange canoe, too.”
All this was clear enough, when I began to reflect on it. It was certainly possible for a canoe with two or three paddles, to go the whole length of the lake in much less time than we had employed in going two-thirds of the distance; and a party landing in the vicinity of William-Henry, could certainly have reached the spot where we then were, several hours sooner than we had reached it ourselves. Still, there existed all the other improbabilities on my side of the question. It was improbable that a party should have proceeded in precisely this manner; it was still more improbable that such a party, coming on a war-path, from a distant part of the country, should know exactly where to find our hut. After a moment's pause, and while we both slowly proceeded to join our companion, I suggested these objections to the Onondago.