"And in Onondaga?"
"Osuntah, sir."
"And in Cayuga?"
I hesitated, then blushed, for I did not know.
"Sweandaea," said Sir William, gravely; "how are you to bear my peace-belts if you know not the red of war from the black of good intent?"
"I should have said 'Hot-Kwah-Weyo'—good-red, not war-red," I replied, so naïvely that Sir William laughed outright.
"With such resourceful impudence," he said, "you cannot be misunderstood among the Six Nations. It eases my mind to find you quick and ingenious in a tight place, lad. But, Michael, have a care to use no Delaware words, for that would render my Cayugas suspicious."
I promised eagerly, and we sat down together to go over the trail, mile by mile, computing the circles I should be obliged to take to avoid the carrying-places where spies were most to be feared.
"Dunmore rides South in a week," said Sir William. "But he will not wait till he reaches Virginia before he sends out his emissaries to urge Cresap on. You must beat them, lad, and go afoot at that."
"I can go the faster," said I. "Horses are useless in the Pennsylvania bush until you reach Crown Gap. I take it that Lord Dunmore's men, being Virginians, will go mounted, and that gives me double time to reach Cresap."