"
"Who doubtless will keep their own cuffs clean; it were shame to doubt
it! But if the Mohawks march with them there'll be a bloody page in
Tryon County annals."
"The Mohawks will not join!" he said, violently. "Has not Schuyler held
a council-fire and talked with belts to the entire confederacy?"
"The confederacy returned no belts," I said, "and the Mohawks were not
present."
"Kirkland saw Brant," he persisted, obstinately.
"Yes, and sent a secret report to Albany. If there had been good news in
that report, you Tryon County men had heard it long since, Sir Lupus."
"With whom have you been talking, sir?" he sneered, removing his pipe
from his yellow teeth.
"With one of your tenants yesterday, a certain Christian Schell, lately
returned with Stoner's scout."
"And what did Stoner's men see in the northwest?" he demanded,
contemptuously.
"They saw half a thousand Mohawks with eyes painted in black circles and
white, Sir Lupus."
"For the planting-dance!" he muttered.
"No, Sir Lupus. The castles are empty, the villages deserted. There is
not one Mohawk left on their ancient lands, there is not one seed
planted, not one foot of soil cultivated, not one apple-bough grafted,
not one fish-line set!
"And you tell me the Mohawks are painted for the planting-dance, in
black and white? With every hatchet shining like silver, and every
knife ground to a razor-edge, and every rifle polished, and every
flint new?"
"Who saw such things?" he asked, hoarsely.
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