Below us lay a creek, its glittering thread visible here and there. The Great Warrior trail crossed it somewhere in that ravine.
I drew the Mohican aside.
"Sagamore," said I, "now is your time come. Now we depend on you. If it lay with us, not one white man here, not one Indian, could take us straight to Catharines-town; for the Great Warrior trail runs not thither. Are you, then, confident that you know the way?"
"I know the way, Loskiel."
"Is there then a trail that leads from the Great Warrior trail below?"
"There are many."
"And you know the right one?"
"I have spoken, brother."
"I am satisfied. But we must clearly mark the trail for our surveyors and for the army."
"We will mark it," he said meaningly, "so that no Seneca dog can ever mistake which way we passed."