is eatin' his heart out, an' all to no purpose. Can't you quiet
him a bit, Noel?"

"I have said all within my power, an' he turns a deaf ear," I replied,
sadly.

"Then I shall try my fist at it," and the old man went up to my comrade,
taking him gently by the hand, and leading him into the thicket just
beyond view of the encampment.

There the two seemingly conversed for a long time, and I was left
comparatively alone, until the soldier who had told us of General
Herkimer's doings nearabout Johnson Hall, came up.

Eager to get some idea of what the commander might be able to do with this
Joseph Brant, whose name stood in my mind for all that was horrible in the
way of cruelty, I asked how it was that General Herkimer could hope to
influence one who was such a great enemy to the Whigs of the Mohawk
Valley, and, in fact, to all white men save those who wore the uniform of
the British king.

He told me that at one time, before Thayendanega had become so powerful a
sachem, he and General Herkimer were near neighbors, and quite intimate
friends.

It seems, from the story this soldier told me, that Sir William Johnson,
Sir John's father, sent the Indian boy to school, and after he had
received a good education gave him employment as secretary. During three
years this now bloodthirsty savage acted as missionary interpreter, and it
was said he did very much for the religious instruction of his tribe. When
the colonists revolted against the oppressive rule of the king, Brant took
the same side as did his patron, and having received a commission--some
have said it was a captaincy, and others that it was a colonelcy--he
became one of the most vengeful enemies we, who were devoted to the cause,
had.

Now, because of the past, General Herkimer hoped to turn him aside from
his chosen path when he was just coming into power, and, boy though I was,
it seemed to me a well-nigh hopeless task--one which had better never have
been attempted, since in case of failure it would show to Thayendanega
that the Whigs of the valley believed him an enemy who should be placated
rather than resisted.

However, that was none of my affairs, and I was not so forward as to air
my views then when I was only a hanger-on by the sufferance of the
commander.

In two hours from the time he left our camp, the Indian messenger
returned, still carrying the bit of white cloth, and came among us as if
expecting we would bow before him.

He was barely