In his heart too burned the story of
Frontenac and how he had ravaged the country of the Hodenosaunee with
fire and sword. He was here in the very shrine and fortress of the
ancient enemies of the great Iroquois. He had taken the education of the
white man, he had read in his books and he knew much of the story of the
human race, but nothing had ever disturbed his faith that a coming chief
of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the mighty League of
the Hodenosaunee was, by right, and in fact, a prince among men.
But while Tayoga learned what civilization, as the European races called
it, had to offer, it did not make him value any the less the arts and
lore of his own forest. Rather, they increased in size and importance by
comparison. He had seen how the talk of de Courcelles had lighted a fire
in the soul of Lennox, he had seen how even Willett, the wary, had been
stirred, but he, Tayoga, had been left cold. He had read the purpose
behind it all, and never for an instant did he let himself put any faith
in de Courcelles or Jumonville.
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