Then lifting up her hand, she said with slow but impassioned tone,
"They left not one drop of living blood to flow in any veins but these,"
and her eyes were raised, and her arms stretched upwards towards heaven, as
though calling down vengeance on the murderers of her father's house.
"My father was a Mohawk, the son of a great chief, who owned these
hunting-grounds far as your eye can see to the rising and setting sun,
along the big waters of the big lakes; but the Ojebwas, a portion of the
Chippewa nation, by treachery cut off my father's people by hundreds in
cold blood, when they were defenceless and at rest. It was a bloody day and
a bloody deed."
Instead of hiding herself, as Hector and Louis strongly advised the young
Mohawk to do, she preferred remaining as a scout, she said, under the cover
of the bushes on the edge of the steep that overlooked the lake, to watch
their movements. She told Hector to be under no apprehension if the Indians
came to the hut; not to attempt to conceal themselves, but offer them food
to eat and water to drink.
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