hey had passed from
view beyond a wooded point.

A few hours should take them to the head of the lake. They had reached
perhaps half the distance, when Menard saw that two of his canoemen
had exchanged glances and were looking toward the shore. He glanced
along the fringe of trees and bushes, a few hundred yards distant,
until his eyes rested on three empty canoes. He called to Father
Claude's canoe, and both, at his order, headed for the shore. As they
drew near, half a score of Indians came from the brush.

"Why," said the maid, "there are some of the men who brought us to the
lake."

"Yes," replied Menard, "it is the Long Arrow's band."

He leaped out of the canoe before it touched the beach, and walked
sternly up to the group of warriors. He knew why they were there. It
was what he had expected. When they had discovered the death of the
Long Arrow there had been rage and consternation. Disputes had
followed, the band had divided, and a part had crossed the lake to
hunt the trail of the Big Buffalo. He folded his arms and gave them a
long, contemptuous look.

"Why do the Onondagas seek the trail of the Big Buffalo? Do they think
to overtake him? Do they think that all their hands together are
strong enough to hold him? Did they think that they could lie to the
White Chief, could play the traitor, and go unpunished?"

Only one or two of the Onondagas had their muskets in their hands.
They all showed fright, and one was edging toward the wood. The
Cayugas in the canoes, at a word from Father Claude, had raised their
muskets. Menard saw the movement from the corner of his eye, and for
the moment doubted the wisdom of the action. It was a question whether
the Cayugas could actually be brought to fire on their Onondaga
brothers. Still, this band had defied the law of the council, and
might, in the eyes of the Indians, bring down another war upon the
nation by their act. While he spoke, the Captain had been deciding on
a course. He now walked boldly up to the man who was nearest the
bushes, and snatched away his musket. There was a stir and a murmur,
but without heeding, he took also the only other musket in the party,
and stepped between the Indians and the forest.

"Stand where you are, or I will kill you. One man"--he pointed to a
youth--"will go into the forest and bring your muskets to the
canoes."

They hesitated, but Menard held his piece ready to fire, and the
Cayugas did the same. At last the youth went