, Enoch could not get his
friend to tell.

"Why do your people leave the shores of the pleasant water?" asked the
white boy.

"Injin not 'lone there now. Red-coat come; then white farmer. Push,
push; crowd, crowd; no game. Injin starve."

"And where are you going?"

"To the hunting grounds of the Hurons."

"But then there will be war between your people and the Hurons."

"No; no war. Hurons be squaws--children; Iroquois master 'em. Then,
war-hatchet buried between Hurons and Six Nations. Buried when French
and Yenghese bury hatchet--long time 'go."

Enoch, with more than curiosity, yet speaking in a careless manner,
continued his questioning: "What would the people of Crow Wing do if
there was another war?"

The Indian flashed a sudden sharp glance at him. "How could be?" he
asked, craftily. "Yenghese got many red-coats--much gun. French no fight
more."

"Suppose we should fight the red-coats?"

"Umph! Me hear Long-guns" (the Virginians) "talk fight to Six Nations.
No. Yenghese send too many big chiefs over water."

"Those big chiefs aren't always good," returned Enoch, quickly. "Your
people remember General Abercrombie. He did not know how to fight in
these forests. And there was Braddock; he was no good at all. He
wouldn't have been beaten if he'd taken Colonel Washington's advice. I'd
give a lot more when it comes to a fight for our Major Putnam, Mr.
Washington, and Ethan Allen."

The Indian's face was gloomy. He had finished eating now and leaned back
against a tree while he puffed the tobacco in the little copper pipe
which was his constant companion. Not until the pipe was smoked out did
he speak. "Harding my friend," he finally said, in his grave tone,
repeating a formula which he had used so many times since the night Nuck
had saved him from the wolves. "Harding my friend. Crow Wing know what
is in his mind. He thinks to fight the red-coats--to take their great
stockades; he is not afraid of their many guns. But he is foolish; he is
as a child; he does not understand. Let him open his ears and listen to
his friend."

The young chief had assumed that oracular tone and manner so dear to the
red man in his counsels. His earnestness, however, impressed Enoch. "The
white youth and his friends are angry with the great King across the
water; they would kill his red-coats. But the red-coats are like leaves
when the frost comes; they fall to the ground and so cover the earth;
and it is thus with the red