I read the entire sign
as follows:

"An Iroquois desires to see you in order to converse upon a subject
concerning wars and treaties."

"Turn over that stone, Little Otter," I said.

"I have already done so," he replied quietly.

"At what hour does this embassy desire to see me?"

He held up four fingers in silence.

"Is this Canienga work?"

"Mohawk!" he said bitterly.

The two terms were synonymous, yet mine was respectful, his a
contemptuous insult to the Canienga Nation. No Indian uses the term
Mohawk in speaking to or of a Mohawk unless they mean an insult.
Canienga is the proper term.

"Is it safe for me to linger here while all go forward?" I asked Little
Otter, lowering my voice so that none except he could hear me.

He smiled and pointed at the tree. The tree was enormous, a giant pine,
dwarfing the tallest tree within range of my vision from where I sat my
horse. I understood. The choice of this great tree for the inscription
was no accident; it now symbolized the sacred tree of the Six
Nations--the tree of heaven. Beneath it any Iroquois was as safe as
though he stood at the eternal council-fire at Onondaga in the presence
of the sachems of the Long House. But why had this unseen embassy
refused to trust himself to this sanctuary? Because of the rangers, to
whom no redskin is sacred.

"Jack Mount," I said, "take command and march your men forward half a
mile. Then halt and await me."

He obeyed without a word. Elsin hesitated, gave me one anxious,
backward glance, but my smile seemed to reassure her, and she walked
her black mare forward. Past me marched the little column. I watched it
drawing away northward, until a turn in the forest road hid the wagon
and the brown-clad rear-guard. Then I dismounted and sat down, my back
to the giant pine, my rifle across my knees, to wait for the red
ambassador whom I knew would come.

Minute after minute slipped away. So still it grew that the shy forest
creatures came back to this forest runway, made by dreaded man; and
because it is the work of a creature they dread and suspect, their
curiosity ever draws them to man-made roads. A cock-grouse first
stepped out of the thicket, crest erect, ruff spread; then a hare loped
by, halting to sniff in the herbage. I watched them for a long while,
listening intently. Suddenly the partridge wheeled, crest flattened,
and ran into the thicket, like a great rat; the hare sat erect, flanks
palpitating, then leaped