The upper part of his body was clothed in the garment called by the Hodenosaunee gakaah, a long tunic of deerskin tanned beautifully, descending to the knees, belted at the waist, and decorated elaborately with the quills of the porcupine, stained red, yellow and blue and varied with the natural white.

His leggings, called in his own language giseha, were fastened by bands above the knees, and met his moccasins.  They too were of deerskin tanned with the same skill, and along the seams and around the bottom, were adorned with the quills of the porcupine and rows of small, colored beads.  The moccasins, ahtaquaoweh, of deerskin, were also decorated with quills and beads, but the broad belt, gagehta, holding in his tunic at the waist, was of rich blue velvet, heavy with bead work.  The knife at his belt had a silver hilt, and the rifle in the bottom of the canoe was silver-mounted.  Nowhere in the world could one have found a young forest warrior more splendid in figure, manner and dress.

The white youth was the equal in age and height of his red comrade, but was built a little more heavily.  His face, tanned red instead of brown, was of the blonde type and bore an aspect of refinement unusual in the woods.  The blue eyes were thoughtful and the chin, curving rather delicately, indicated gentleness and a sense of humor, allied with firmness of purpose and great courage.  His dress was similar in fashion to that of the older man, but was finer in quality.  He was armed like the others.

“I suppose we’re the only people on the lake,” said the hunter and scout, David Willet, “and I’m glad of it, lads.  It’s not a time, just when the spring has come and the woods are so fine, to be shot at by Huron warriors and their like down from Canada.”

“I don’t want ’em to send their bullets at me in the spring or any other time,” said the white lad, Robert Lennox.  “Hurons are not good marksmen, but if they kept on firing they’d be likely to hit at last.  I don’t think, though, that we’ll find any of ’em here.  What do you say, Tayoga?”

The Indian youth flashed a swift look along the green wall of forest, and replied in pure Onondaga, which both Lennox and Willet understood: 

“I think they do not come.  Nothing stirs in the woods on the high banks.  Yet Onontio (the Governor General of Canada) would send the Hurons and the other nations allied with the French against the people of Corlear (the Governor of the Province of New York).  But they fear the Hodenosaunee.”

“Well they may!” said Willet.  “The Iroquois have stopped many a foray of the French.  More than one little settlement has thriven in the shade of the Long House.”

The young warrior smiled and lifted his head a little.  Nobody had more pride of birth and race than an Onondaga or a Mohawk.  The home of the Hodenosaunee was in New York, but their hunting grounds and real domain, over which they were lords, extended from the Hudson to the Ohio and from the St. Lawrence to the Cumberland and the Tennessee, where the land of the Cherokees began.  No truer kings of the forest ever lived, and for generations their warlike spirit fed upon the fact.