The Road to Frontenac

by Samuel Merwin

“And you, M’sieu,––you will be heard?”

“Yes; I think so. We must not talk any more now. They will not like it.”

The Cayuga was followed by a wrinkled old chief of the Oneidas, called the Hundred Skins. He stepped forward and stood near the fire, his blanket drawn close about his shoulders, where the red light could play on his face. A whisper ran around the outer circle, for it was known that he stood for peace.

“My Cayuga brother has spoken wisely,” he began, in a low but distinct voice. He looked slowly about the house to command attention. “The Oneidas have not forgotten the storms of other seasons; they have not forgotten the times of starving, when neither the Manitous of the redman nor the God of the white man came to help. The grain stood brown in the fields; the leaves hung dead from the trees; 242 there was no wind to cool the fever that carried away old men and young men, squaws and children. And when the wind came, and the cold and snow of the winter, there was no food in the lodges of the Five Nations. My brothers have heard that the corn is rising to a man’s height––they have seen it to-day in the fields of the Onondagas. They know that this corn must be cared for like the children of their lodges, if they wish food to eat when the winter comes and the fields are dead. They know what it will cost them to take the war-path.

“Twelve moons have not gone since the chiefs of the Senecas rose in this house and called on the warriors of the Five Nations to take up the hatchet against the white men of the north. The skins of the beaver were talking in their ears. They saw great canoes on the white man’s rivers loaded with skins, and their hands itched and their hearts turned inward. Then the wise chiefs of the Oneidas and Cayugas and Onondagas and Mohawks spoke well. They were not on the war-path; the hatchet was deep in the ground, and young trees were growing over it. Then the Oneidas said that the White Chief would not forget if the Senecas heeded their itching hands and listened to the bad 243 medicine of the beaver skins in their ears. But the Senecas were not wise, and they took up the hatchet.

“This is the word of the Oneidas to the chiefs of the Long House:––The Seneca has put his foot in the trap. Then shall the Oneida and Onondaga and Cayuga and Mohawk rush after, that they too may put in their feet where they can get away only by gnawing off the bone? Shall the wise chiefs of the Long House run into fight like the dogs of their village? The Oneidas say no! The Senecas took up the hatchet; let them bury it where they can. And when the winter comes, the Oneidas will send them corn that they may not have another time of starving.”

Menard was watching the Oneida with eyes that fairly snapped. The low voice stopped, and another murmur ran around the outer circles. The Hundred Skins had spoken boldly, and the Cayuga young men looked stern. The chief stepped slowly back and resumed his seat, and then, not before, did Menard’s face relax. He looked about cautiously to see if he was observed, then settled back and gazed stolidly into the fire. The old Oneida had played directly into his hand; by letting slip the motive 244 for the Seneca raid of the winter before, he had strengthened the one weak point in the speech Menard meant to make.

The next speaker was one of the younger war chiefs of the Onondagas. He made an effort to speak with the calmness of the older men, but there was now and then a flash in his eye and an ill-controlled vigour in his voice that told Menard and the priest how strong was the war party of this village. The Onondaga plunged into his speech without the customary deliberation.

“Our brothers, the Senecas, have sent to us for aid. We have been called to the Long House to hear the voice of the Senecas,––not from the lips of their chiefs, for they have fields and villages to guard against the white man, and they are not here to stand before the council and ask what an Iroquois never refuses. The Cayuga has spoken with the voice of the Seneca. Shall the chiefs and warriors of the Long House say to the Cayuga, ‘Go back to your village and send messengers to the Senecas to tell them that their brothers of the Long House have corn and squaws and children that are more to them than the battles of their brothers––tell the Senecas that the Oneidas 245 must eat and cannot fight’? There is corn in the fields of the Oneidas. But there is food for all the Five Nations in the great house on the Lake.”

The speaker paused to let his words sink in. Menard whispered to the maid, in reply to an inquiring look. “He means the Governor’s base of supplies at La Famine.”