Part 56 (1/2)
”Are you certain?”
”Yes, Loskiel.”
”You saw him move?”
”No. But a Siwanois of the Magic Clan makes nothing of darkness. He sees where he chooses to see.
”Mayaro,” said I, ”what do you make of this Wyandotte?”
”He has quitted his post without orders for a spot by the deep water. A canoe could come there, and he could speak to those within it.”
”That might d.a.m.n a white soldier, but an Indian is different.”
”He is a Wyandotte--or says he is.”
”Yes, but he came with credentials from Fortress Pitt.”
”Once,” said the Sagamore, ”he wore his hair in a ridge.”
”If the Eries learned that from the Nez Perces, why might not the Wyandottes also learn it?”
”He wears the Hawk.”
”Yes, I know it.”
”He saw the moccasin tracks in the sand at the other ford, Loskiel, and remained silent.”
”I know it.”
”And I believe, also, that he saw the canoe.”
”Then,” said I, ”you mean that this Wyandotte is a traitor.”
”If he be a Wyandotte at all.”
”What?”
”He may be Huron; he may be a Seneca-Huron. But we Indians think differently, Loskiel.”
”What do you think?”
”We do not know for certain. But”--and the Mohican's voice became quietly ferocious--”if a war-arrow ever struck this Wyandotte between the shoulders I think every tree-cat in the Long House would squall at the condoling council.”
”You think this Wyandotte an Erie in disguise?” I asked incredulously.
”We Indians of different nations are asking that question of each other, Loskiel.”
”What is the mind of the Grey-Feather concerning this?” I asked, horrified.
”Oneida and Stockbridge begin to believe as I believe.”