"That was generations ago," he said, "and time makes many shifts and changes. There is a flux and efflux of all people, including the white, like the ceaseless movement of sand upon a beach."

The Onondaga was silent, but Robert saw that he did not unbend, and de Galisonniere, feeling that it was unwise to pursue the topic, turned his attention to the mighty river and its lofty wooded banks.

"I don't believe there's another river in the world the equal of this giant French stream of ours," he said.

"Our n.o.ble British river, the Hudson, has much to say for itself," said Robert.

"A grand river, in truth. I have seen it, but large and splendid as it is it lacks the length and size of the St. Lawrence."

"It is beyond question a n.o.ble stream to travel on. One makes greater speed here and suffers less hardship than in the forest."

"I am glad that I can take you to Montreal."

"Your hospitality to us, Captain de Galisonniere, is appreciated. I have found French officers courteous and ready to share with us all they had.

You are not the first whom we have met on this journey. We encountered far down in our province of New York the Chevalier Raymond de St. Luc."

"St. Luc! St. Luc! The very flower of French chivalry! He is a relative of the famous La Corne de St. Luc, of whom you have doubtless heard, and at Quebec he is considered a model of all the qualities that make a soldier and a gentleman."

"He made a like impression upon me. Farther north we were so fortunate as to meet more of your countrymen, Colonel de Courcelles and Captain de Jumonville."

"I know them both! Brave officers!" said de Galisonniere.

But he turned away the conversation from the Frenchmen who had gone down into territory that Robert considered a portion of the Province of New York, and the lad surmised that, knowing a good deal about the nature of their errands, he feared lest he might reveal something through chance allusions. Instead, he talked of the St. Lawrence, Montreal, and the glories of Quebec to which he hoped he might return soon. He addressed most of his talk to Robert, but he spoke at times to Willet and Tayoga, both of whom responded briefly. The wind meanwhile remained strong, and it was not necessary to use the oars, the large sail carrying them swiftly toward Montreal. Robert, while talking with de Galisonniere, watched eagerly the two sh.o.r.es, seeing the smoke rise from the stout log houses of the Canadians, and once the tall steeple of a church dominating a little village, and seeming out of all proportion to the congregation that surrounded it.

"Yes, the church is very powerful with us," said de Galisonniere, following his eyes and noting his expression. "It suits our people, particularly our good Canadian French. Our priests are patriotic, brave, self-sacrificing, and are a power in our dealings with the Indians."

"I know it," said Robert.

At night they reached Montreal, then much inferior in size and importance to Quebec, the canoe was lifted from the _Frontenac_, and after many exchanges of courtesies, the three went to an inn.

"If chance offers," said Robert, "we shall be glad to help you as you have helped us."

"One never knows," said de Galisonniere. "You and I need not conceal from each other that there is much talk of war between England and France, which, of course, would mean war also between the English and French colonies. If it comes, and come it will, I think, I trust that no ill luck will befall you upon the battlefield."

"And I wish you as well," said Robert, sincerely.

The canoe was left in trustworthy hands, it being their purpose to sell it on the morrow and buy a larger boat, and they walked through the streets of this town of Hochelaga toward their inn. There were other Indians on the street--French Indians they were called to distinguish them from those who formed a British alliance--but none could be compared with Tayoga, arrayed in the full splendor of a coming chief of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the League of the Hodenosaunee. Never had he borne himself more haughtily, never had his height appeared greater or his presence grander. Robert, looking at him, felt that if St. Luc was the very flower of French chivalry, this young comrade of his was to an even greater degree the very spirit and essence of all that was best in the great League of the Hodenosaunee.

The Indians--Hurons, Abenakis, St. Regis, Ottawas, and warriors from farther west--watched Tayoga with fascinated eyes. They knew perfectly well who the tall youth was, that he belonged to the great Iroquois league, and they knew, too, in their secret hearts that he had the superiority which Onondaga, Mohawk and their allied nations claimed.

Hence, while their looks sometimes expressed an unwilling admiration, they were also charged always with hostility and hate. But Tayoga apparently took no notice. Once more he was the Greek to whom all outer peoples were barbarians.

"I don't think the French can make much progress with him," whispered Willet to Robert. "As the Indian has no written language, his memory is long. When we reach Quebec he'll never forget for an instant that it was once Stadacona, a village of the Mohawks, the Keepers of the Eastern Gate, and one of the great nations of the Hodenosaunee."

"No, he will not," said Robert, "and look who is waiting to meet us!"

Standing before a low house, which was crowded with the goods of a fur trader, were a half-dozen Indians, wild and savage in looks to the last degree, and in the center was one whose shoulder was bound tightly with a great roll of deerskin. In stature he rose far above the other warriors, and he had a thickness in proportion. The hate that the rest had shown when they looked upon Tayoga was nothing to his, which was the very concentrated essence of all malice.

"Our good friend, Tandakora, despite his wound seems to have arrived ahead of us," said Willet to Robert.

"Yes, and he shows very clearly that he would like to give Tayoga to the torture with himself as torturer, and yet he must know that it was you who put the bullet through his shoulder."

"Quite true, Robert, but he resents the Onondaga more than he does us.

We are strangers, aliens to him, and he makes no comparisons with us, but Tayoga is an Indian like himself, whom he has fought against, and against whom he has failed. Watch us pa.s.s. For Tayoga, Tandakora will not exist, and it will instill more poison into the heart of the Ojibway."

Willet was a good prophet. The Onondaga walked within five feet of the Ojibway, but he did not show by the slightest sign that he was aware of the existence of Tandakora. The entire little drama, played by the children of the forest, was perfectly clear. Tandakora was dirt under the feet of Tayoga, and Tandakora felt that it was so. His heart burned within him and a twinge through his shoulder added to his anger. Yet he was powerless there in Montreal with the French troops about, and he could merely glare impotently while the three walked by ignoring his existence. But they did not forget him, and each in his heart resolved to be on watch against treacherous attack.

They found on the slope of a high hill the inn to which de Galisonniere had recommended them, and obtained quarters for the night. Monsieur Jolivet, the proprietor, had lodged Indians before, great chiefs treating with the French Government, and he did not think it strange that Tayoga should come there. In truth, Monsieur Jolivet was a thrifty man who despised no patronage for which the pay was a.s.sured, and since peace still existed between France and Great Britain he was quite willing to entertain any number of Bostonnais at his most excellent inn on the slope of a high hill overlooking the St. Lawrence. Willet had shown him the color of gold, and from natural ability and long experience as an innkeeper being a shrewd reader of faces he was sure that his three unusual guests could be trusted.

Willet knew Canada better than Robert, and now he acted as spokesman.

"We will sleep here only one night," he said, "because early tomorrow morning we take boat for Quebec. We three will occupy one large room.

You have such a room with three beds, have you not?"

"I have the room," responded Monsieur Jolivet promptly, "and the beds can be put in it at once. Then all will be arranged quickly by Lizette and Marie, the maids. Will you permit my man, Francois, to carry your weapons to the chamber now?"

"I think not," replied Willet, giving his rifle an affectionate look.

"I've lived so long with this good old rifle of mine that we hate to be parted even for an hour. Tayoga and Mr. Lennox are younger than I am, but they're beginning to feel the same way about their arms. If you don't mind, Monsieur Jolivet, we'll keep our weapons with us."

"Ah, I see, sir, that you're a man of sentiment," said Monsieur Jolivet, laughing and rubbing his hands. "It is well that one can feel it in this rough world of ours. But will Monsieur see a young officer who has come from the commandant? Merely a little inquiry about your ident.i.ty and an examination of your papers, if you have any. It's according to our custom, and it's just a formality, nothing more."

Robert knew that it was far from being a formality, but his comrades and he had nothing to fear, as their mission was duly accredited and they carried the letters to the Marquis Duquesne. The young officer, a Frenchman of Canadian birth, entered presently, and with the courtesy characteristic of the French race, a trait that Robert liked, asked for an account of themselves, which was given readily. As usual the effect of the letters addressed to the Marquis Duquesne was magical, and, as the officer withdrew, he tendered them all the help he could give for a speedy and pleasant voyage to Quebec.

Monsieur Jolivet gave them a supper in his best style. Although a native of New France he was of Provencal blood, and he had a poetic strain. He offered to his guests not an excellent inn alone, but a magnificent view also, of which he made full use. The evening being warm with a soft and soothing wind, Marie and Lizette set the table in a little garden, in which early flowers were blooming already, offering delicate colors of pink and rose and pale blue. The table was spread with a white cloth, and silver and china were not lacking. The eyes of Robert, who had a fastidious taste, glistened.

"Monsieur Jolivet may be our enemy or not," he said, "but I like him. It is not often that one can dine at such an inn, with such a view of mountain, forest and magnificent river. In truth, the French do some things well."

"They surpa.s.s us in the matter of inns," said Willet. "They think more about it--and take more trouble. I'm sorry we have to quarrel with the French. They're good people, though they haven't been oversqueamish in the use of savages against us, and they're really responsible for the cruelties done by the painted demons."

He spoke freely of red "savages" before Tayoga, knowing that the young Onondaga would never think of applying the word to himself. Willet had shown too often that he considered the people of the Hodenosaunee the equals of anybody. Then he took their three rifles, laid them together on the gra.s.s by the side of a graveled walk and, looking at the vast expanse of mountain, forest and river, drew a deep breath.

"It's not much like fighting for our lives back there in the gorge, is it, Robert?" he asked. "It's a strange world here in America. We're lying in a rocky hollow one day, shooting at people who are shooting at us, and both sides shooting to kill, and two or three days later we're sitting at an inn in a town, eating off silver and china."

"It's a quick and pleasant transformation," said Robert, appreciatively.

He would have called it supper, but in Montreal it was dinner, and it was served by Lizette and Marie. There was fish from the St. Lawrence, chicken, beef, many vegetables, good white bread and coffee, all prepared in the excellent manner characteristic of Monsieur Jolivet's famous inn. Tayoga ate abundantly but delicately. He had learned the use of knife and fork at the school in Albany, and, like Robert, he was fastidious at the table.

Monsieur Jolivet, after his manner, gave them much of his own presence.

One must be polite to the Bostonnais at such a time. He discoursed quite freely of Montreal, and of its advantages as a great trading post with the Indians, who already brought there vast quant.i.ties of furs. It would become one of the greatest and most brilliant jewels in the French crown, second perhaps only to Paris. But for the present, the chief glory of New France could be seen only at Quebec Ah, when the Bostonnais arrived there they would behold great lords and great ladies!

The three listened, each interested in his own way. Robert's fancy saw the silken splendor of a vice-regal court, and, anxious to know the larger world, he was more glad than ever that he had come upon this errand, dangerous though it had proved to be.

They sat a while after the dinner was over, looking down at the town and the great view beyond, a clear moon and brilliant stars casting a silver light which illuminated almost like the day. They saw lights gleaming in houses, and now and then shadowy figures pa.s.sing. Out in the river a boat with a mast rocked in the current, and Robert believed it was the _Frontenac_ of Louis de Galisonniere.

As the dusk thickened over the great river, the island, the hills and the forest, Hochelaga seemed very small, and the inn of the excellent Monsieur Jolivet was just a tiny point of light in all that vast darkness. It shone, nevertheless, by contrast, and was a little island of warmth and comfort in the sea of the wilderness. Monsieur Jolivet, who was deeply interested in the Bostonnais and the proud young Iroquois, talked freely. Under his light and chattering manner lay great powers of perception, and he saw that he had guests of quality, each in his own way. The hunter even was not an ordinary hunter, but, as Monsieur Jolivet judged, a man of uncommon intellectual power, and also of education. He would discover as much about them as he could, for his own personal gratification, because he might give valuable information to the commandant at Montreal, who was his friend, and because later on he might speak a useful word or two in the ear of Louis de Galisonniere, whom he knew well and whose good opinion he valued.

Robert, who was in a cheerful mood and who wished to exercise his gift of golden speech, met him half way, and enlarged upon the splendor and power of Britain, the great kingdom that bestrode the Atlantic, seated immovable in Europe, and yet spreading through her colonies in America, increasing and growing mightier all the time. It was soon a test of eloquence between him and Monsieur Jolivet, in which each was seeking to obtain from the other an expression of the opinion that swayed his country. The Onondaga was silent, and the hunter spoke only a word or two, but each listened intently to the dialogue, which, however earnest it might be, never went beyond the bounds of good humor.

"I cannot make you see the truth," said Monsieur Jolivet, at last, smiling and spreading his hands. "I cannot convince you that France is the first of nations, the nation of light and learning and humanity, and yet it is so. And seated here upon the St. Lawrence we shall build up another France, the New France of America, which will shed light upon you English or Bostonnais down below, and teach you the grace and beauty of civilization."