“Are you certain?”

“Yes, Loskiel.”

“You saw him move?”

“No. But a Siwanois of the Magic Clan makes nothing of darkness. He sees where he chooses to see.

“Mayaro,” said I, “what do you make of this Wyandotte?”

“He has quitted his post without orders for a spot by the deep water. A canoe could come there, and he could speak to those within it.”

“That might damn a white soldier, but an Indian is different.”

“He is a Wyandotte — or says he is.”

“Yes, but he came with credentials from Fortress Pitt.”