But Tayoga
apparently took no notice. Once more he was the Greek to whom all outer
peoples were barbarians.
"I don't think the French can make much progress with him," whispered
Willet to Robert. "As the Indian has no written language, his memory is
long. When we reach Quebec he'll never forget for an instant that it was
once Stadacona, a village of the Mohawks, the Keepers of the Eastern
Gate, and one of the great nations of the Hodenosaunee."
"No, he will not," said Robert, "and look who is waiting to meet us!"
Standing before a low house, which was crowded with the goods of a fur
trader, were a half-dozen Indians, wild and savage in looks to the last
degree, and in the center was one whose shoulder was bound tightly with
a great roll of deerskin. In stature he rose far above the other
warriors, and he had a thickness in proportion. The hate that the rest
had shown when they looked upon Tayoga was nothing to his, which was
the very concentrated essence of all malice.
"Our good friend, Tandakora, despite his wound seems to have arrived
ahead of us," said Willet to Robert.
Pages:
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219