the Mohawks. Could she have but known it, her desire
was to be more than realized, for in vigour of mind and
body he was destined to surpass all the offspring of his
race.

So it was, in the pear 1742, in the reign of King George
the Second, that Thayendanegea was born among the Mohawks
on the banks of the Ohio. To the untaught savage this
sluggish stream was a thing of life, and he called it the
'River Beautiful.' The Ohio valley was at this time the
favourite hunting-ground of the Indian peoples. Because
this valley was rich in game and comfortable to dwell in,
it had been a scene of bitter strife. The problem of rule
on the Ohio was of long standing. For a whole century
Delaware and Shawnee and Wyandot and Six Nations contended
for the territory; tribe was pitted against tribe, and then
at last the answer was given. The Iroquois confederacy,
or Six Nations, [Footnote: Mohawks, Cayugas, Senecas,
Oneidas, Onondagas, and Tuscaroras.] whose villages lay by
the Hudson river, united, determined, and vengeful, had
gained the ascendancy; from the banks of the Hudson to the
seats of the stranger beside lake Erie the lands belonged
to them; and other tribes to the east and west and north
and south paid them tribute. The Mohawks were the mightiest
of the Six Nations; in the confederacy they were chief in
council; from their ranks was chosen the head war chief,
who commanded on the field of battle; they took the
first-fruits of the chase, and were leaders in everything.

Some time was to pass, however, before Thayendanegea
could understand that he was sprung from a race of
conquerors. As yet he was but a simple Indian babe, with
staring brown eyes and raven-black hair. Of the mother
who cared for him history has practically nothing to say.
She may have been a Mohawk, but this is by no means
certain. It has even been hinted that she came from the
Western Indians, and was a damsel of the Shawnee race
who had left the wigwams of her people. At all events we
may be sure that she had the natural instincts and impulses
of a forest mother; that she knew where the linden grew
high and where the brown-red sycamores clustered thick
by the margin of the stream. It may be supposed that when
the sun mounted high she would tie the picturesque, richly
ornamented baby-frame containing her boy to some drooping
branch to swing from its leathern thong in the cooling
breeze. We may imagine her tuneful voice singing the
mother's Wa Wa song