Part 35 (1/2)

”The Saguenays are free people,” said I. ”The Yellow Leaf is free as is his clan ensign, the Hawk. Brother, go in peace!”

And I motioned my people forward.

Our flankers, who, keeping stations, had waited, now started on again, the Water-snake running swiftly to his post on the extreme right flank.

After ten minutes' silent and swift advance, Thiohero came lightly to my side on the trail.

”Brother,” she whispered, ”was it well considered to let loose that Tree-eating rover in our rear?”

”Would the Oneida take such a wretched trophy as that poor hunter's tangled scalp?”

”_Neah._ Yet, I ask again, was it wisdom to let him loose, who, for a mouthful of parched corn, might betray us to the Mengwe?”

”Poor devil, he means no harm to anybody.”

”_Then why does he skulk after us?_”

Startled, I turned and caught a glimpse of something slinking on the ridge between our flankers; but was instantly rea.s.sured because no living thing could dog us without discovery from the rear. And presently I did see the Screech-owl run forward and hurl a clod of moss into the thicket; and the Saguenay broke cover like a scared dog, running perdue so that he came close to Hanatoh, who flung a stick at him.

That was too much for me; and, as the Tree-eater bolted past me, I seized him.

”Come,” said I, dragging him along, ”what the devil do you want of us?

Did I not bid you go in peace?”

Thiohero caught him by the other arm, and he panted some jargon at her.

”Koue!” she exclaimed, and her long, sweet whistle of the Canada sparrow instantly halted us in our tracks, flankers, rearguard, and all.

Thiohero, still holding the Saguenay by his lean, muscular arm, spoke sharply to him in his jargon; then, at his reply, looked up at me with the flaming eyes of a lynx.

”Brother,” said she, ”this Montagnais hunter has given an account that the Maquas have prepared an ambuscade, knowing we are on the Great Trail.”

I said, coolly: ”What reason does the Saguenay give for returning to us with such a tale?”

”He says,” she replied, ”that we only, of all Iroquois or white men he has ever encountered, have treated him like a man and not as an unclean beast.

”He says that my white brother has told him he is a man, and that if this is true he will act as real men act.

”He says he desires to be painted upon the breast with a little red foot, and wishes to go into battle with us. And,” she added navely, ”to an Oneida this seems very strange that a Saguenay can be a real man!”

”Paint him,” said I, smiling at the Saguenay.

But no Oneida would touch him. So, while he stripped to the clout and began to oil himself from the flask of gun-oil I offered, I got from him, through Thiohero, all he had noticed of the ambuscade prepared for us, and into which he himself had run headlong in his flight from the stones and insults of the Mohawks at the Big Eddy.

While he was thus oiling himself, Luysnes shaved his head with his hunting blade, leaving a lock to be braided. Then, very quickly, I took blue paint from Thiohero and made on the fellow's chest a hawk. And, with red paint, under this I made a little red foot, then painted his fierce, thin features as the girl directed, moving a dainty finger hither and thither but never touching the Saguenay.

To me she said disdainfully, in English: ”My brother John, this is a wild wolf you take hunting with you, and not a hound. The Saguenays are real wolves and not to be tamed by white men or Iroquois. And like a lone wolf he will run away in battle. You shall see, brother John.”

”I hope not, little sister.”