“Should not one of us watch, M’sieu?”
“We are not fit for it. We have hard work before us, and many a chance yet to run.”
“Teganouan will watch,” said the Indian.
Menard’s face showed surprise, but Father Claude whispered, “He has learned at the mission to understand our language.”
They lay on the ground before the hut, in their wet clothes, and in a moment were asleep. Teganouan built a fire close at hand, and sat 343 by it without a motion, excepting the alert shifting glances of his bead-like eyes, until, when the colours in the east had faded into blue and the sun was well above the trees, he saw the chiefs of the village coming slowly toward him between the huts, a crowd of young men following behind them, and a snarling pack of dogs running before. He aroused Menard and Father Claude.
The chiefs sat in a circle about the fire, the two white men among them. The other Indians sat and stood in a wider circle, just within earshot, and waited inquisitively for the White Chief to state his errand.
“My brothers, the white men, have asked to speak with the chiefs of the Cayugas,” said the spokesman, a wrinkled old warrior, whom Menard recognized as one of the speakers at the Long House.
“The Big Buffalo is on his way to the stone house of Onontio. He is far from the trail. His muskets and his knives and hatchets were taken from him by the Onondagas and were not returned to him. He asks that the chiefs of the Cayugas permit him to use one of their many canoes, that he may hasten to carry to Onontio the word of the Long House.”
“The White Chief comes to the Cayugas, who 344 live two sleeps away from their brothers, the Onondagas, to ask for aid. Have the Onondagas then refused him? Why is my brother so far from the trail?”
“The chiefs of the Cayugas sat in the Long House; they heard the words of the great council, that the Big Buffalo and the holy Father and the white maiden should be set free. They know that what is decided in the council is the law of the nation, that no warrior shall break it.”