t the time of meeting at two
o'clock. Now, Jack, take the stone to the stream yonder and scrub off
the paint with moss and gun-oil, then drop the stone into the water.
And you, Tim Murphy, go quietly among the men and caution them not to
fire on a friendly Oneida. That is all, lads. We march in a few
moments."

The effect upon the rangers was amusing; their kindly airs of
good-natured protection vanished; Mount gazed wildly at me; Tim Murphy,
perfectly convinced yet unable to utter a word, saluted and marched
off, while Elerson and the Weasel stood open-mouthed, fingering their
rifles until the men began to fall in silently, and I put up Elsin and
mounted my roan, motioning Murphy and Jack Mount to my stirrups.

"Small wonder I read such signs," I said. "I am an Oneida chief, an
ensign, and a sachem. Come freely to me when signs of the Iroquois
puzzle you. It would not have been very wise to open fire on our own
scouts."

It seemed strange to them--it seemed strange to me--that I should be
instructing the two most accomplished foresters in America. Yet it is
ever the old story; all else they could read that sky and earth, land
and water, tree and rock held imprinted for savant eyes, but they could
not read the simple signs and symbols by which the painted men of the
woods conversed with one another. Pride, contempt for the savage--these
two weaknesses stood in their way. And no doubt, now, they consoled
themselves with the thought that a dead Iroquois, friendly or
otherwise, was no very great calamity. This was a danger, but I did not
choose to make it worse by harping on it.

About two o'clock a ranger of the advanced guard came running back to
say that some two score Iroquois, stripped and painted for war, were
making signs of amity from the edge of the forest in front of us.

I heard Mount grunt and Murphy swearing softly under his breath as I
rode forward, with a nod to Elsin.

"Now you will see some friends of my boyhood," I said gaily, unlacing
the front of my hunting-shirt as I rode, and laying it open to the
wind.

"Carus!" she exclaimed, "what is that blue mark on your breast?"

"Only a wolf," I said, laughing. "Now you shall see how we Oneidas meet
and greet after many years! Look, Elsin! See that Indian standing there
with his gun laid on his blanket? The three rangers have taken to
cover. There they stand, watching that Oneida like three tree-cats."

As I cantered up and drew bridle Elerson called