the great foray they had in mind. The
Onondaga runners were still carrying the wampum belts of purple shells,
sign of war, to distant villages of the tribes, and parties of warriors
were still coming in. A band of Cayugas arrived that night, and with
them they brought a half starved and sick, Lenni-Lenape, whom they had
picked up near the camp. The Lenni-Lenape, who looked as if he might
have been when in health a strong and agile warrior, said that news had
reached him through the Wyandots of the great war to be waged by the
Iroquois on the white settlements, and the spirits would not let him
rest unless he bore his part in it. He prayed therefore to be accepted
among them.

Much food was given to the brave Lenni-Lenape, and he was sent to a
lodge to rest. To-morrow he would be well, and he would be welcomed to
the ranks of the Cayugas, a Younger nation. But when the morning came,
the lodge was empty. The sick Lenni-Lenape was gone, and with him the
boy, Paul, the youngest of the prisoners. Guards bad been posted all
around the camp, but evidently the two had slipped between. Brave
and advanced as were the Iroquois, superstition seized upon them.
Hah-gweli-da-et-gah was at work among them, coming in the form of the
famished Lenni-Lenape. He had steeped them in a deep sleep, and then
he had vanished with the prisoner in Se-oh (The Night). Perhaps lie had
taken away the boy, who was one of a hated race, for some sacrifice or
mystery of his own. The fears of the Iroquois rose. If the Spirit of
Evil was among them, greater harm could be expected.

But the two renegades, Blackstaffe and Wyatt, raged. They did not
believe in the interference of either good spirits or bad spirits, and
just now their special hatred was a famished Lenni-Lenape warrior.

"Why on earth didn't I think of it?" exclaimed Wyatt. "I'm sure now by
his size that it was the fellow Hyde. Of Course he slipped to the lodge,
let Cotter out, and they dodged about in the darkness until they escaped
in the forest. I'll complain to Timmendiquas."

He was as good as his word, speaking of the laxness of both Iroquois and
Wyandots. The great White Lightning regarded him with an icy stare.

"You say that the boy, Cotter, escaped through carelessness?" he asked.

"I do," exclaimed Wyatt.

"Then why did you not prevent it?"

Wyatt trembled a little before the stern gaze of the chief.

"Since when," continued Timmendiquas, "have you, a deserter front your
own