people, had the right to hold to account the head chief of the
Wyandots?" Braxton Wyatt, brave though he undoubtedly was, trembled yet
more. He knew that Timmendiquas did not like him, and that the Wyandot
chieftain could make his position among the Indians precarious.

"I did not mean to say that it was the fault of anybody in particular,"
he exclaimed hastily, "but I've been hearing so much talk about the
Spirit of Evil having a hand in this that I couldn't keep front saying
something. Of course, it was Henry Ware and Hyde who did it!"

"It may be," said Timmendiquas icily, "but neither the Manitou of the
Wyandots, nor the Aieroski of the Iroquois has given to me the eyes to
see everything that happens in the dark."

Wyatt withdrew still in a rage, but afraid to say more. He and
Blackstaffe held many conferences through the day, and they longed for
the presence of Simon Girty, who was farther west.

That night an Onondaga runner arrived from one of the farthest villages
of the Mohawks, far east toward Albany. He had been sent from a farther
village, and was not known personally to the warriors in the great camp,
but he bore a wampum belt of purple shells, the sign of war, and he
reported directly to Thayendanegea, to whom he brought stirring and
satisfactory words. After ample feasting, as became one who had come
so far, he lay upon soft deerskins in one of the bark huts and sought
sleep.

But Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, could not sleep. His evil spirit warned
him to rise and go to the huts, where the two remaining prisoners were
kept. It was then about one o'clock in the morning, and as he passed he
saw the Onondaga runner at the door of one of the prison lodges. He was
about to cry out, but the Onondaga turned and struck him such a violent
blow with the butt of a pistol, snatched from under his deerskin tunic,
that he fell senseless. When a Mohawk sentinel found and revived him
an hour later, the door of the hut was open, and the oldest of the
prisoners, the one called Ross, was gone.

Now, indeed, were the Iroquois certain that the Spirit of Evil was
among them. When great chiefs like Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea
were deceived, how could a common warrior hope to escape its wicked
influence!

But Braxton Wyatt, with a sore and aching head, lay all day on a bed of
skins, and his friend, Moses Blackstaffe, could give him no comfort.

The following night the camp was swept by a sudden and tremendous storm