Far out in the pale starlight, south and west of the Hall, I saw fires kindled, one by one, until the twinkle of their lights ran for a mile across the uplands. On a hill in the north a signal fire sent long streamers of flame straight up into the sky; other beacons flashed out in the darkness, some so distant that I could not be certain they were more than sparks of my imagination.
"It is the Six Nations gathering," said Mr. Duncan. "We expect important guests."
"What for?" I asked.
"I don't know," said Mr. Duncan, gravely. "Good-night, Mr. Cardigan."
"Good-night, sir," I said, thoughtfully; then cried after him, "and my present, Mr. Duncan?"
"To-morrow," he answered, and passed on his way a-laughing.
I walked quickly back to the Hall, where I encountered Esk and Peter, well bibbed, cleaning the last crumb from their bowls of porridge.
"Did you see the soldiers?" cried Esk, tapping upon his bowl and marching up and down the hallway.
"Look out of the back windows," added Peter. "The Onondaga fires are burning on the hills."
"Oneidas," corrected Esk.