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Updated: June 19, 2025
We had been walking swiftly while we spoke together in low and guarded tones; now I nodded my comprehension, sheered off to the right, took the trail-lead, replacing the Stockbridge Mole, and signalled the nearest Oneida, Grey-Feather, to join Mayaro on the left flank.
"The Sagamore has lived longer than his younger brother," he rejoined gently. "And is far wiser," said I. "A little wiser in some few things concerning human life, Loskiel.... Does my brother desire that Mayaro shall bring in the Wyandotte?" "Bring him," I said; and walked forward toward our camp. Tahoontowhee stopped me with his challenge, then sprang forward at the sound of my voice.
Major Parr nodded, quietly offered his hand to the silent Siwanois, and, holding that warrior's sinewy fist in an iron grip that matched it, named him to Captain Simpson. Then, looking at me, he said slowly, in English: "Mayaro is a great chief among his people great in war, wise in council and debate.
And I saw that the compliment had told. "Mayaro has heard," he said, without the slightest emphasis of resentment. Then, proudly and delicately yielding me reason, and drawing his superb figure to its full and stately height: "When a Mohican Sagamore listens, all Algonquins listen, and the Siwanois clan grow silent in the still places. When a real man speaks, real men listen with respect.
Our lodge shall be her lodge; our friends hers, her enemies ours. I know not how this all has come to me, Mayaro, my friend even as I know not how your friendship came to me, or how now our honour is lodged forever in each other's keeping. But it is true. Our blood has made us of one race and parentage." "It is the truth," he said.
The White Plains Indians were there, and she was ever at their camp asking the same and endless question." "What question, Mayaro?" "That I shall also tell you, for I overheard it. But none among the White Plains company could answer her; no, nor no Congress soldier that she asked.
"Mayaro," said I, amused, "is a battle then near at hand that you make so complete a preparation for it?" A half-smile appeared for a moment on his lips: "It is always well to be prepared for life or death, Loskiel, my younger brother." "Oho!" said I, smiling. "You understood the express rider when he said that Indians had fired on our pickets a week ago!"
Presently we halted and stood in silence, minute after minute, while the purple dusk deepened swiftly around us, and overhead a few stars came out palely, as though frightened. Then Mayaro dropped noiselessly to the ground and began to crawl forward over the velvet moss; and we followed his example, feeling our way with our right hands to avoid dry branches and rocks.
"In the manner that all warriors desire to be rewarded," he replied, secretly amused. "I thought," said I, "that the reward all warriors desire is a scalp taken in battle." He cast a sly glance at me and went on painting. "Mayaro," said I, disturbed, "is it possible that you have been out forest-running while I've slept?" He shot a quick look at me, full of delighted malice. And "Ho!" said he.
The Oneida youth had now braided and oiled his scalp and was stretching it on a willow hoop, very busy with the pride and importance of his work. I glanced at Mayaro and caught a gleam of faint amusement in his eyes; but his features remained expressionless enough, and it seemed to me that his covert glance rested on the Wyandotte more often than on anybody.
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