The mountain peaks were red when I awoke and spoke aloud to rouse my people. One by one they sat up, owlish with sleep, yet soon clearing their eyes and minds with remembering the business that lay before us.
I sent Joe de Golyer and Tahioni to relieve our sentinels, Luysnes and the Screech-owl.
When these came in with report that all was still as death on the Iroquois trail, we ate breakfast and drank at the river, where some among us also washed our bodies,—among others the River-reed, who stripped unabashed, innocent of any shame, and cleansed herself knee-deep in a crystal green pool under the Indian willows.
When she came back, the disk of blue paint was gone from her brow, and I saw her a-fishing in her beaded wallet and presently bring forth blue and red paint and a trader's mirror about two inches in diameter.
Then the little maid of Askalege sat down cross-legged and began to paint herself for battle.
At the root of her hair, where it made a point above her forehead, she painted a little crescent moon in blue. And touched no more her face; but on her belly she made a blue picture of a heron—her clan being the Heron, which is an ensign unknown among Iroquois.
Now she took red paint, and upon her chest she made a tiny human foot.
I was surprised, for neither for war nor for any ceremony I ever heard of had I seen that dread symbol on any Indian.
The Oneidas, also, were looking at her in curiosity and astonishment, pausing in their own painting to discover what she was about.
Then, as it struck me, so, apparently, it came to them at the same instant what their sorceress meant,—what pledge to friend and foe alike this tiny red foot embodied, shining above her breast. And the two young warriors who had painted the tortoise in blue upon their bellies, now made each a little red foot upon their chests.