e lodges of the Five Nations. My
brothers have heard that the corn is rising to a man's height--they
have seen it to-day in the fields of the Onondagas. They know that
this corn must be cared for like the children of their lodges, if they
wish food to eat when the winter comes and the fields are dead. They
know what it will cost them to take the war-path.

"Twelve moons have not gone since the chiefs of the Senecas rose in
this house and called on the warriors of the Five Nations to take up
the hatchet against the white men of the north. The skins of the
beaver were talking in their ears. They saw great canoes on the white
man's rivers loaded with skins, and their hands itched and their
hearts turned inward. Then the wise chiefs of the Oneidas and Cayugas
and Onondagas and Mohawks spoke well. They were not on the war-path;
the hatchet was deep in the ground, and young trees were growing over
it. Then the Oneidas said that the White Chief would not forget if the
Senecas heeded their itching hands and listened to the bad medicine of
the beaver skins in their ears. But the Senecas were not wise, and
they took up the hatchet.

"This is the word of the Oneidas to the chiefs of the Long House:--The
Seneca has put his foot in the trap. Then shall the Oneida and
Onondaga and Cayuga and Mohawk rush after, that they too may put in
their feet where they can get away only by gnawing off the bone? Shall
the wise chiefs of the Long House run into fight like the dogs of
their village? The Oneidas say no! The Senecas took up the hatchet;
let them bury it where they can. And when the winter comes, the
Oneidas will send them corn that they may not have another time of
starving."

Menard was watching the Oneida with eyes that fairly snapped. The low
voice stopped, and another murmur ran around the outer circles. The
Hundred Skins had spoken boldly, and the Cayuga young men looked
stern. The chief stepped slowly back and resumed his seat, and then,
not before, did Menard's face relax. He looked about cautiously to see
if he was observed, then settled back and gazed stolidly into the
fire. The old Oneida had played directly into his hand; by letting
slip the motive for the Seneca raid of the winter before, he had
strengthened the one weak point in the speech Menard meant to make.

The next speaker was one of the younger war chiefs of the Onondagas.
He made an effort to speak with the calmness of the older men, but
there was now and the