faithfully that the land might be plentiful.

"But a storm is breaking over the cornfields of the Senecas. It is a
great cloud that has come down from the north, with the flash of fire
and the roar of thunder, and with hailstones of lead that will leave
no stalk standing. My brothers know the strength of the north wind.
They have not forgotten other storms that would have laid waste the
villages of the Senecas and the Mohawks. And they have not forgotten
their Manitous, who have whispered to them when the clouds appeared in
the northern sky, 'Rise up, Mohawks and Oneidas and Onondagas and
Cayugas and Senecas, and stand firmly against this storm, and your
homes and your fields shall not be destroyed.'"

The house was silent with interest. The maid raised her head and
watched the stolid faces of the chiefs in the inner circle. Not an
expression changed from beginning to end of the speech. Beyond, she
could see other, younger faces, some eager, some bitter, some defiant,
some smiling, and all showing the flush of excitement,--but these grim
old chiefs had long schooled their faces to hide their thoughts. They
held their blankets close, and puffed deliberately at their pipes with
hardly a movement of the lips.

The Cayuga went on:--

"Messengers have come to the Cayugas from their brothers, the Senecas,
telling of the storm that is rushing on them. The Cayugas know the
hearts of the Five Nations. When the Mohawks have risen to defend
their homes, the hearts of the Cayugas have been warm, and they have
taken up the hatchet with their brothers. When the Onondagas have gone
on the war-path, Senecas and Cayugas have gone with them, and the
trouble of one has been the trouble of all."

"The good White Father is no longer the war chief of the white men.
The Great Mountain, who knew the voice of the forest, who spoke
with the tongue of the redman, has been called back to his
Great-Chief-Across-the-Water. His word was the word of kindness, and
when he spoke our hearts were warm. But another mountain is now the
war chief, a mountain that spits fire and lead, that speaks with a
double tongue. The Five Nations have never turned from a foe. The
enemy of the Senecas has been the enemy of the Mohawks. If the storm
strikes the fields of the Senecas, their brothers will not turn
away and stop their ears and say they do not hear the thunder, for
they remember the storms of other seasons, and they know that the
hail that destroys one