This well-judged and politic stroke on the part of Magua was not without instantaneous results. The Delawares lost their gravity in a much more cordial expression; and the host, in particular, after contemplating his own liberal share of the spoil for some moments with peculiar gratification, repeated with strong emphasis, the words,—
"My brother is a wise chief. He is welcome!"
"The Hurons love their friends the Delawares," returned Magua. "Why should they not? they are colored by the same sun, and their just men will hunt in the same grounds after death. The redskins should be friends, and look with open eyes on the white men. Has not my brother scented spies in the woods?"
The Delaware, whose name in English signified "Hard Heart," an appellation that the French had translated into "Le Cœur-dur," forgot the obduracy of purpose, which had probably obtained him so significant a title. His countenance grew very sensibly less stern, and now deigned to answer more directly.
"There have been strange moccasins about my camp. They have been tracked into my lodges."
"Did my brother beat out the dogs?" asked Magua, without adverting in any manner to the former equivocation of the chief.
"It would not do. The stranger is always welcome to the children of the Lenape."
"The stranger, but not the spy."
"Would the Yengeese send their women as spies? Did not the Huron chief say he took women in the battle?"
"He told no lie. The Yengeese have sent out their scouts. They have been in my wigwams, but they found there no one to say welcome. Then they fled to the Delawares—for, say they, the Delawares are our friends; their minds are turned from their Canada father!"