The Hunters of the Hills | Page 3

"I think they do not come. Nothing stirs in the woods on the high banks.
Yet Onontio (the Governor General of Canada) would send the Hurons
and the other nations allied with the French against the people of
Corlear (the Governor of the Province of New York). But they fear the
Hodenosaunee."
"Well they may!" said Willet. "The Iroquois have stopped many a foray
of the French. More than one little settlement has thriven in the shade
of the Long House."
The young warrior smiled and lifted his head a little. Nobody had more
pride of birth and race than an Onondaga or a Mohawk. The home of
the Hodenosaunee was in New York, but their hunting grounds and real
domain, over which they were lords, extended from the Hudson to the
Ohio and from the St. Lawrence to the Cumberland and the Tennessee,
where the land of the Cherokees began. No truer kings of the forest
ever lived, and for generations their warlike spirit fed upon the fact.
"It is true," said Tayoga gravely, "but a shadow gathers in the north.
The children of Corlear wish to plow the land and raise corn, but the

sons of Onontio go into the forest and become hunters and warriors
with the Hurons. It is easy for the man in the woods to shoot down the
man in the field."
"You put it well, Tayoga," exclaimed Willet. "That's the kernel in the
nut. The English settle upon the land, but the French take to the wild
life and would rather be rovers. When it comes to fighting it puts our
people at a great disadvantage. I know that some sort of a wicked broth
is brewing at Quebec, but none of us can tell just when it will boil
over."
"Have you ever been to Quebec, Dave?" asked Robert.
"Twice. It's a fortress on a rock high above the St. Lawrence, and it's
the seat of the French power in North America. We English in this
country rule our selves mostly, but the French in Canada don't have
much to say. It's the officials sent out from France who govern as they
please."
"And you believe they'll attack us, Dave?"
"When they're ready, yes, but they intend to choose time and place. I
think they've been sending war belts to the tribes in the north, but I
can't prove it."
"The French in France are a brave and gallant race, Dave, and they are
brave and gallant here too, but I think they're often more cruel than we
are."
It was in David Willet's mind to say it was because the French had
adapted themselves more readily than the English to the ways of the
Indian, but consideration for the feelings of Tayoga restrained him. The
wilderness ranger had an innate delicacy and to him Tayoga was
always a nobleman of the forest.
"You've often told me, Dave," said Lennox, "that I've French blood in
me."

"There's evidence pointing that way," said Willet, "and when I was in
Quebec I saw some of the men from Northern France. I suppose we
mostly think of the French as short and dark, but these were tall and
fair. Some of them had blue eyes and yellow hair, and they made me
think a little of you, Robert."
Young Lennox sighed and became very thoughtful. The mystery of his
lineage puzzled and saddened him at times. It was a loss never to have
known a father or a mother, and for his kindest and best friends to be of
a blood not his own. The moments of depression, however, were brief,
as he had that greatest of all gifts from the gods, a cheerful and hopeful
temperament.
The three began to paddle with renewed vigor. Gasna Gaowo, the
canoe in which they sat, was a noble example of Onondaga art. It was
about sixteen feet in length and was made of the bark of the red elm,
the rim, however, being of white ash, stitched thoroughly to the bark.
The ribs also were of white ash, strong and flexible, and fastened at
each end under the rim. The prow, where the ends of the bark came
together, was quite sharp, and the canoe, while very light and
apparently frail, was exceedingly strong, able to carry a weight of more
than a thousand pounds. The Indians surpassed all other people in an
art so useful in a land of many lakes and rivers and they lavished
willing labor upon their canoes, often decorating them with great
beauty and taste.
"We're now within the land of the Mohawks, are we not, Tayoga?"
asked Lennox.
"Ganeagaono, the Keepers of the Eastern Gate, rule here," replied the
young warrior, "but the Hurons dispute their claim."
"I've heard that the Mohawks and