"Necessity makes hypocrites of us all," he muttered for the satisfaction of his stubborn English conscience.
Oskelano grinned amicably and gave an order to his men; and straightway the warriors closed round and escorted Woodfield to their camp, every step widening the distance between him and his companions. They gave him food and drink; they provided him with a shelter; they built a smoky fire before him to keep away the flies. Finally Oskelano himself came, accompanied by his brother, and the two squatted gravely at the entrance to the bower and scrutinised their captive with pride and interest.
"Um," grunted Oskelano, after a long period of silence.
"Ho," muttered the weary Englishman with equal gravity.
The French vocabulary of the Algonquin chief did not extend beyond the single word diable, a word which he uttered constantly in his subsequent efforts to converse with his guest, without any understanding of its meaning, but believing, since he had heard it issue with frequency from the lips of the soldiers in the fortress, that it was an expression of possibilities. He endeavoured to convey by means of gestures that it had come to his knowledge that the Iroquois were about to attack the fortress at the instigation of the English. His spies had seen a messenger bearing the symbol of the headless bird. They had also observed the general movement eastward of the tribes. The gods had provided him with a rare opportunity for attacking his enemy. He was the friend of the great French people—he slapped his insidious old heart with his treacherous hand—he was eager to fight for his allies, and in return he doubted not that the chief far over seas, King Louis to wit, would graciously send to his good Algonquin friends many of the magic fire-tubes, with an abundant supply of that unholy admixture of saltpetre, sulphur, and charcoal which possessed such a wondrous property of exploding to the physical detriment of a foe.
"Diable?" he grunted, staring eagerly at Woodfield.
"Oui," answered the harassed Englishman, though in truth he had understood nothing.
"Um," grunted Oskelano; and there the interview ended, with nothing gained on either side.
But as the chief returned to his skin-hut, his brother, a sachem wiser than he, made the disquieting assertion: "The white stranger is not of the French tribe."
"How know you so?" cried the perturbed chief.