“Dat bad.  Nebber neutral in hot war.  Get rob from bot’ side.  Alway be one or t’oder, cap’in.”

“You may be right, Nicholas, but a conscientious man may think neither wholly right, nor wholly wrong.  I wish never to lift the hatchet, unless my quarrel be just.”

“Injin no understand dat.  Throw hatchet at enemy—­what matter what he say—­good t’ing, bad t’ing.  He enemy—­dat enough.  Take scalp from enemy—­don’t touch friend”

“That may do for your mode of warfare, Tuscarora, but It will hardly do for mine.  I must feel that I have right of my side, before I am willing to take life.”

“Cap’in always talk so, eh?  When he soldier, and general say shoot ten, forty, t’ousand Frenchmen, den he say; stop, general—­no hurry—­let cap’in t’ink.’  Bye’m-by he’ll go and take scalp; eh!”

It exceeded our old soldier’s self-command not to permit the blood to rush into his face, at this home-thrust; for he felt the cunning of the Indian had involved him in a seeming contradiction.

“That was when I was in the army, Wyandotte,” he answered, notwithstanding his confusion, “when my first, and highest duty, was to obey the orders of my superiors.  Then I acted as a soldier; now, I hope to act as a man.”

“Well, Indian chief alway in army.  Always high duty, and obey superior—­obey Manitou, and take scalp from enemy.  War-path alway open, when enemy at t’other end.”

“This is no place to discuss such questions, chief; nor have we the time.  Do you go with us?”

Nick nodded an assent, and signed for the other to quit the rocks.  The captain hesitated a moment, during which he stood intently studying the scene in the clearing.

“What say you, Tuscarora; the serjeant has proposed assaulting that breast-work?”

“No good, cap’in.  You fire, halloo, rush on—­well, kill four, six, two—­rest run away.  Injin down at mill hear rifle; follow smoke—­where major, den?  Get major, first—­t’ink about enemy afterwards.”

As Nick said this, he repeated the gesture to descend; and he was obeyed in silence.  The captain now led the way back to his party; and soon rejoined it.  All were glad to see Nick, for he was known to have a sure rifle; to be fearless as the turkey-cock; and to possess a sagacity in the woods, that frequently amounted to a species of intuition.

“Who lead, cap’in or Injin?” asked the Tuscarora, in his sententious manner.

“Och, Nick, ye’re a cr’ature!” muttered Mike.  “Divil bur-r-rn me, Jamie, but I t’inks the fallie would crass the very three-tops, rather than miss the majjor’s habitation.”

“Not a syllable must be uttered,” said the captain, raising a hand in remonstrance.  “I will lead, and Wyandotte will march by my side, and give me his council, in whispers.  Joyce will bring up the rear.  Blodget, you will keep a sharp look-out to the left, while Jamie will do the same to the right.  As we approach the mills, stragglers may be met in the woods, and our march must be conducted with the greatest caution.  Now follow, and be silent.”