"Nothing to be got out of him."

"No," said Blackstaffe, "but we must urge that the strictest
kind of guard be kept over the others."

The Iroquois were to remain some time at the village, because all
their forces were not yet gathered for the great foray they had
in mind. The Onondaga runners were still carrying the wampum
belts of purple shells, sign of war, to distant villages of the
tribes, and parties of warriors were still coming in. A band of
Cayugas arrived that night, and with them they brought a half
starved and sick, Lenni-Lenape, whom they had picked up near the
camp. The Lenni-Lenape, who looked as if he might have been when
in health a strong and agile warrior, said that news had reached
him through the Wyandots of the great war to be waged by the
Iroquois on the white settlements, and the spirits would not let
him rest unless he bore his part in it. He prayed therefore to
be accepted among them.

Much food was given to the brave Lenni-Lenape, and he was sent to
a lodge to rest. To-morrow he would be well, and he would be
welcomed to the ranks of the Cayugas, a Younger nation. But when
the morning came, the lodge was empty. The sick Lenni-Lenape was
gone, and with him the boy, Paul, the youngest of the prisoners.
Guards bad been posted all around the camp, but evidently the two
had slipped between. Brave and advanced as were the Iroquois,
superstition seized upon them. Hah-gweli-da-et-gah was at work
among them, coming in the form of the famished Lenni-Lenape. He
had steeped them in a deep sleep, and then he had vanished with