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"We go to the Vale of Onondaga," said St. Luc, turning his attention
back to Tayoga, "and as you advised I shall lay the peace belt before
the fifty sachems of the Hodenosaunee, assembled in council in the Long
House."
"Go to the southwest," said Tayoga, "and you will find the great trail
that leads from the Hudson to the mighty lakes of the west. The warriors
of the Hodenosaunee have trod it for generations, and it is open to the
son of Onontio."
The young Indian's face was a mask, but his words and their tone alike
were polite and dignified. St. Luc bowed, and then bowed to the others
in turn.
"At Albany some day," he said to young Lennox, and his smile was very
winning.
"At Albany some day," repeated Robert, and he hoped the prophecy would
come true.
Then St. Luc turned away, followed by the Canadian, with the Indian in
the rear. None of the three looked back and the last Robert saw of them
was a fugitive gleam of the chevalier's white uniform through the green
leaves of the forest. Then the mighty wilderness swallowed them up, as a
pebble is lost in a lake.


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