And here, suddenly, in the purple dusk, three Indians rose up and barred my way. And I saw, with joy, my three Oneidas, Tahioni the Wolf, Kwiyeh the Screech-owl, Hanatoh the Water-snake, all shaven, oiled, and in their paint; and all wearing the Tortoise and The Little Red Foot. So deeply the encounter affected me that I could scarce speak as I pressed their extended hands, one after another, and felt their eager, caressing touch on my arms and shoulders. "Brother," they said, "we are happy to be chosen for the scout under your command. We are contented to have you with us again. "We were told by the Saguenay, who passed here on his way to the Little Falls, that you had recovered of your hurts, but we are glad to see for ourselves that this is so, and that our elder brother is strong and well and fit once more for the battle-trail!" I told them I was indeed recovered, and never felt better than at that moment. I inquired warmly concerning each, and how fortune had treated them. I listened to their accounts of stealthy scouting, of ambushes in silent places, of death-duels amid the eternal dusk of shaggy forests, where sunlight never penetrated the matted roof of boughs. They shewed me their scalps, their scars, their equipment, accoutrement, finery. They related what news was to be had of the enemy, saying that Stanwix was already invested by small advance parties of Mohawks under forester officers; that trees had been felled across Wood Creek; that the commands of Gansevoort and Willett occupied the fort on which soldiers still worked to sod the parapets. Of McDonald, however, they knew nothing, and nothing concerning Burgoyne, but they had brazenly attended the Iroquois Federal Council, when their nation was summoned there, and saw their great men, Spencer and Skenandoa treated with cold indifference when the attitude of the Oneida nation was made clear to the Indian Department and the Six Nations. "Then, brother," said Tahioni sadly, "our sachems covered themselves in their blankets, and Skenandoa led them from the last Onondaga fire that ever shall burn in North America." "And we young warriors followed," added Kwiyeh, "and we walked in silence, our hands resting on our hatchets." "The Long House is breaking in two," said the Water-snake. "In the middle it is sinking down. It sags already over Oneida Lake. The serpent that lives there shall see it settling down through the deep water to lie in ruins upon the magic sands forever." After a decent silence Tahioni patted the Little Red Foot sewed on the breast of my hunting shirt. "If we all are to perish," he said proudly, "they shall respect our scalps and our memory. Haih! Oneida! We young men salute our dying nation." I lifted my hatchet in silence, then slowly sheathed it. "Is our Little Maid of Askalege well?" I asked. "Thiohero is well. The River-reed makes magic yonder in the swale," said Tahioni seriously. "Is Thiohero here?" I exclaimed.