“Teganouan’s words are like the wind. He has brought them many leagues,––from the lodges of the Onondagas,––that he may speak them now. He has brought them from the 397 Long House of the Five Nations, where the fires burn brightly by day and by night, where the greatest chiefs of many thousand warriors are met to hear the Voice of the Great Mountain, the father of white men and redmen. The Great Mountain has a strong voice. It is louder than cannon; it wounds deeper than the musket of the white brave. It tells the Onondagas and Cayugas and Oneidas and Mohawks that they must not give aid to their brothers, the Senecas, who have fallen, whose corn and forts and lodges are burned to ashes and scattered on the winds. It tells the Onondagas that the Great Mountain is a kind father, that he loves them like his own children, and will punish the man who wrongs them, let him be white or red. It tells the Onondagas that the white captain, who has robbed a hundred Onondaga lodges of their bravest hunters, shall be struck by the strong arm of the Great Mountain, shall be blown to pieces by the Voice that thunders from the great water where the seal are found to the farthest village of the Five Nations. And the chiefs hear the Voice; they listen with ears that are always open to the counsel of Onontio. They take his promises into their 398 hearts and believe them. They know that he will strike down the dog of a white captain. They refuse aid to their dying brothers, the Senecas, because they know that the strong arm of Onontio is over them, that it will give them peace.”
He paused, gazing with bright eyes at Menard. There was no reply, and he continued:––
“The Great Mountain has kept his word. The Onondagas shall know, in their council, that Onontio’s promise has been kept, that the white brave, who lied to their hunters and sent them in chains across the big water, has gone to a hunting-ground where his musket will not help him, where the buffalo shall trample him and tear his flesh with their horns. Then the Onondagas shall know that the Big Buffalo spoke the truth to the Long House. And this word shall be carried to the Onondagas by Teganouan. He will go to the council with the scalp in his hand telling them that the white children of Onontio are their brothers. Teganouan sees the Big Buffalo stand with his strong hand at the door. He knows that the Big Buffalo could call his warriors to seize Teganouan, and bind him, and bid him stand before the white men’s muskets. 399 But Teganouan is not a child. He sees with the eye of the old warrior who has fought a battle for every sun in the year, who has known the white man as well as the redman. When the Big Buffalo stood in the Long House, Teganouan believed him; Teganouan knew that his words were true. And now the heart of Teganouan is warm with trust. He knows that the Big Buffalo is a wise warrior and that he has an honest heart.”
There was a pause, and Menard, his hand still on the latch, stood motionless. He knew what the Indian meant. He had done no more than Menard himself had promised the council, in the name of Governor Denonville, should be done. The lodges of the allies near the fort sheltered many an Iroquois spy; whatever might follow would be known in every Iroquois village before the week had passed. To hold Teganouan for trial would mean war.
There was the tramp of feet on the beaten ground without, and a clear voice said:––
“Wait a moment, I must report to Captain Menard.”
Menard raised the latch an inch, then looked sharply at Teganouan. The Indian stood 400 quietly, leaning a little forward, waiting for the decision. The Captain was on the point of speaking, but no word came from his parted lips. The voices were now just outside the door. With a long breath Menard’s fingers relaxed, and the latch slipped back into place. Then he motioned toward the wall ladder that reached up into the darkness of the loft.
Teganouan turned, picked up the hatchet and thrust it into his belt, took one quick glance about the room to make sure that no telltale article remained, and slipped up the ladder. There was a loud knock on the door, and Menard opened it. The Lieutenant came in.
“We have no word yet, Captain,” he said. “Every building in the fort has been searched. I have so few men that I could not divide them until this was done, but I am just now sending out searching parties through the Indian village and the forest. None of the canoes are missing. Have I your approval?”
“Yes.”