whom we fed and grew has turned against its masters, as the
dogs of your own lodges, my brothers, will bite the hand that pats
their heads. It has hung about outside of the Great Lodge to kill the
hunter who sees no danger ahead. And now, when this dog is caught, and
tied at your door, would not my brothers bring him to the end of all
evil beasts?" As he finished, he made a gesture of bitter contempt and
kicked Menard.

A shout went up, and voices clamoured, protesting, denouncing,
exulting. The Captain's eyes flashed fire. It was not for a second
that he hesitated. Weakness, to an Indian, is the last, the greatest
fault. If he should take this insult, it would end forever not only
his own chance of escape, with the maid and the priest, but all hope
of safety for the Governor's column. He sprang to his feet before the
Indian, whose arm was still stretched out in the gesture, and with two
quick blows knocked him clear of his feet, and then kicked him into
the fire.

A dozen hands dragged the warrior from the fire and stamped out a
blaze that had started in the fringe of one legging. Every man in the
house was on his feet, shouting and screaming. Menard stood with his
hands at his side, smiling, with the same look of scorn he had worn in
the morning when they led him to the torture. Father Claude drew
closer to the maid, and the two sat without moving. Then above the
uproar rose the voice of the Big Throat; and slowly the noise died
away. The chief stepped to the centre of the circle, but before he
could speak Menard had reached his side, and motioned to him to be
silent.

"My brothers," he said, looking straight at the fallen warrior, who
was scrambling to his feet,--"my brothers, the Big Buffalo is sorry
that the Onondagas have among them a fool who thinks himself a
warrior. The Big Buffalo is not here to fight fools. He is here to
talk to chiefs. He is glad that the fool speaks only for himself and
not for the brave men of the Long House." He walked deliberately back
and resumed his seat by the maid.

[Illustration: "Menard stood ... smiling with the same look of scorn he
had worn ... when they led him to the torture."]

"Courage, Mademoiselle," he said close to her ear. "It is all right."

"What will they do, M'sieu?"

"Nothing. I have won. Wait--the Big Throat is speaking."

One by one the warriors fell back to their seats. Some were muttering,
some were smiling; but all were subdued. The Big Throat's voic