"It is so," said Tayoga gravely, speaking to the young lad as man to
man. "We will ever serve the Hodenosaunee as our fathers before us
have done."

"Leave the subject of the Hodenosaunee," said Colonel Johnson
cheerily. "I know that you lads are prouder of your birth than the old
Roman patricians ever were, but Mr. Willet, Mr. Lennox and I were not
fortunate enough to be born into the great League, and you will
perhaps arouse our jealousy or envy. Come, gentlemen, sit you down
and eat and drink."

His Mohawk wife seconded the request and food and drink were
served. Robert saw that the bower was divided into two rooms the one
beyond them evidently being a sleeping chamber, but the evidences of
comfort, even luxury, were numerous, making the place an oasis in the
wilderness. Colonel Johnson had wine, which Robert did not touch, nor
did Tayoga nor Daganoweda, and there were dishes of china or silver
brought from England. He noticed also, and it was an unusual sight in
a lodge in the forest, about twenty books upon two shelves. From his
chair he read the titles, Le Brun's "Battles of Alexander," a bound
volume of _The Gentleman's Magazine,_ "Roderick Random," and several
others. Colonel Johnson's eyes followed him.

"I see that you are a reader," he said. "I know it because your eyes
linger upon my books. I have packages brought from time to time from
England, and, before I came upon this expedition, I had these sent
ahead of me to the bower that I might dip into them in the evenings if
I felt so inclined. Reading gives us a wider horizon, and, at the same
time, takes us away from the day's troubles."

"I agree with you heartily, sir," said Robert, "but, unfortunately, we
have little time for reading now."

"That is true," sighed Colonel Johnson. "I fear it's going to be a
long and terrible war. What do you see, Joseph?"

Young Brant was sitting with his face to the door, and he had risen
suddenly.

"A runner comes," he replied. "He is in the forest beyond the creek,
but I see that he is one of our own people. He comes fast."

Colonel Johnson also arose.

"Can it be some trouble among the Ganeagaono?" he said.

"I think not," said the Indian boy.

The runner emerged from the wood, crossed the creek and stood in the
doorway of the bower. He was a tall, thin young Mohawk, and he panted
as if he had come fast and long.

"What is it, Oagowa?" asked Colonel Johnson.

"A hostile band, Hurons, Abenakis, Caughna