e are the daughters of Onontio, and his wrath will be
great."

"It is the little Father," replied the Seneca. "It is well. He shall
have food in plenty, and his days shall be long in my village, where he
will teach my children the laws of his fathers. As for Onontio, he
sleeps in his stone house while my brothers from the Mohawk valley
carry away his Huron children. The daughters of Onontio shall become
slaves. I have said."

"I will give my body to the stake," said Brother Jacques; "my flesh and
bones to torture. Let Onontio's daughters go."

"I have seen the little Father with his thumb in the pipe, and he
smiles like a brave man. No. They are fairer than the blossom of the
wild plum, and their hair is like the silk of corn. They shall be
slaves or wives, as they choose. Make haste," pushing the priest
toward the canoe in which madame and Anne had already taken their
places.

Had he been alone he would have resisted, so great was his wrath. A
moment's vanity placed him and these poor women in this predicament.
He had been warned by a trader that a small band of Iroquois were
hanging about, and yet he had been drawn into this! Yonder was the
marquis, who might die . . . !

"Take care, little Father," warned the Seneca, realizing by the
Jesuit's face the passion which was mounting to his brain. "It would
cause the Corn Planter great sorrow to strike."

Brother Jacques's shoulders drooped, and he sat down in the bottom of
the canoe.

"They will not harm us for the present," he said to the women
encouragingly. "And there is hope for us is the fact that these are
Senecas. To reach their villages they will perforce travel the same
route as the Onondaga expedition. And we shall probably pass close to
where our friends are."

"But the boat," said madame, "Monsieur de Lauson will think that we
have been drowned!"

"Jean Pauquet saw me enter the boat with you, and he knows that I am a
good sailor. Monsieur de Lauson will suspect immediately that we have
fallen into the hands of savages, and will instantly send us aid. So
keep a good heart and show the savage that you do not fear him. If you
can win his respect he will be courteous to you; and that will be
something, for the journey to Seneca is long."

Neither woman replied. Madame's thought went back rebelliously to the
morning. "To the ends of the world," the Chevalier had said. She
shook her head wearily. It was all over. She cared not w