The Shadow of the North: A Story of Old New York and a Lost CampaignAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Shadow of the North: A Story of Old New York and a Lost Campaign
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Juvenile fiction
A splendid figure, tall, heroic, the nose lofty and beaked like that
of an ancient Roman, the feather headdress brilliant and defiant like
that of Tayoga, came forward to meet them, and Robert saw with intense
pleasure that it was none other than Daganoweda himself. Nor was the
delight of the young Mohawk chieftain any less--the taciturnity and
blank faces of Indians disappeared among their friends--and he came
forward, smiling and uttering words of welcome.
"Daganoweda," said Willet, "the sight of you is balm to the eyes. Your
name means in our language, 'The Inexhaustible' and you're an
inexhaustible friend. You're always appearing when we need you most,
and that's the very finest kind of a friend."
"Great Bear, Tayoga and Dagaeoga come out of the great wilderness,"
said Daganoweda, smiling.
"So we do, Daganoweda. We've been there a long time, but we were not
so idle."
"I have heard of the fort that was built in the forest and how the
young white soldiers with the help of Great Bear, Tayoga and Dagaeoga
beat off the French and the savage tribes."
"I supposed that runners of the Hodenosaunee would keep you
informed. Well, the fort is there and our people still hold it, and we
are here, anxious to get back into the main stream of big events. Who
are at the fire, Daganoweda?"
"Waraiyageh (Colonel William Johnson) himself is there. He was fishing
yesterday, it being an idle time for a few days, and with ten of my
warriors I joined him last night. He will be glad to see you, Great
Bear, whom he knows. And he will be glad to meet Tayoga and Dagaeoga
who are to bear great names."
"Easy, Daganoweda, easy!" laughed Willet.
"These are fine lads, but don't flatter 'em too much just yet. They've
done brave deeds, but before this war is over they'll have to do a lot
more. We'll go with you and meet Colonel Johnson."
As they walked toward the fire a tall, strongly built man, of middle
years, dressed in the uniform of an English officer, came forward to
meet them. His face, with a distinct Irish cast, was frank, open and
resolute.
"Ah, Willet, my friend," he said, extending his hand. "So you and I
meet again, and glad I am to hold your fingers in mine once more. A
faithful report has come to us of what you did in Quebec, and it seems
the Willet of old has not changed much."
The hunter reddened under his tan.
"It was forced upon me, colonel," he said.
Colonel William Johnson laughed heartily.
"And he who forced it did not live to regret it," he said. "I've heard
that French officers themselves did not blame you, but as for me,
knowing you as I do, I'd have expected no less of David Willet."
He laughed again, and his laugh was deep and hearty. Robert, looking
closely at him, thought him a fine, strong man, and he was quite sure
he would like him. The colonel glanced at him and Tayoga, and the
hunter said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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