ver from his injury, and that by means of
swift runners the grievance of the Indians had already been laid before
Sir William Johnson.

This report was confirmed on the following day, by the appearance of a
delegation of Seneca chiefs, who brought a note from the governor, and
demanded that Major Hester deliver to them the Ottawa captive. Sir
William's note, though extremely courteous, was very firm, and
contained an unmistakable order for restoration to the Senecas of their
lawful prisoner. It also chided the major for interfering between
Indians, at a risk of disturbing the friendly relations between the
English and their Iroquois neighbors.

With the reading of this note an angry flush mantled the soldier's
bronzed cheeks, and he seemed on the point of expressing his feelings
in forcible language. Controlling himself with a visible effort, and
bidding Truman Flagg interpret his words, he replied to the chiefs as
follows:--

"Brothers: I have listened to your demand and find it a just one. The
talking-paper of the white chief bids me deliver to you a prisoner
known as Songa the Ottawa. The orders of the white chief must be
obeyed, as I would obey this one were it possible to do so, but it is
not. Listen. As I walked before my lodge, a stranger, whom I had
never seen, ran from the forest and fell at my feet. He was bleeding
from many wounds, and exhausted from long running. An enemy followed,
and sought to kill him; when my son, a little child, threw himself
across the stranger's neck and saved his life. Was not that a sign
from the Great Spirit that he wished the stranger to live? Could I do
less than was done by that little child? You know I could not. You
know that no Seneca warrior would allow a man to be killed who sought
his protection in such a manner. So I lifted this stranger and took
him to my lodge. At the same time I told his enemy that I would keep
him until an order could be brought from the great white chief for him
to be delivered up. Now you have brought that order, and, were the
stranger still in my lodge, I would deliver him to you; but he is not.
He left me that same night. How, I know not. He was sore wounded, and
was lodged in a secure place, but in the morning he was gone. I am
told that he is a medicine man of the Metai. May he not have been
removed by the magic of his circle? No matter. He was here and is
gone. You look to me for him, and I cannot produce him. That is