“Danton,” he said, “you are going through this journey with us, and I intend that you shall know about such matters as this meeting with the Onondagas.”
“Yes. They claim to be Mission Indians, but neither the Father nor I altogether believe them.” In a few sentences Menard outlined the conversation. “Now, Danton, this may or may not be an important incident. I want you to know the necessity for keeping our own counsel in all such matters, dropping no careless words, and letting no emotions show. I wish you would make a point of learning the Iroquois language. Father Claude will help you. You are to act as my right-hand man, and you may as well begin now to learn to draw your own conclusions from an Indian’s words.”
Danton took eagerly to the lessons with Father Claude, for they seemed another definite step toward the excitement that surely, to his mind, lay in wait ahead. The studying began on that afternoon, while they were toiling up against the stream.
In the evening, when the dusk was coming down, and the little camp was ready for the night, Menard came up from the heap of stores, where the voyageurs had already stretched out, and found the maid sitting alone by the fire. Danton, in his rush of interest in the new study, had drawn Father Claude aside for another lesson. 70
“Mademoiselle is lonely?” asked Menard, sitting beside her.
“No, no, M’sieu. I have too many thoughts for that.”
“What interesting thoughts they must be.”
“They are, M’sieu. They are all about the Indians this morning. Tell me, M’sieu,––they called you Onontio. What does it mean?”
“They called me the son of Onontio, because of my uniform. Onontio, the Great Mountain, is their name for the Governor; and the Governor’s soldiers are to them his sons.”