And: “My brother’s given name?” inquired the savage bluntly.

“Euan — Euan Loskiel, once of the family of Guy Johnson, but now, for these three long battle years, officer in Colonel Morgan’s regiment,” I said. “Has the wise Sagamore ever seen me before this moment?”

The savage’s eyes wavered, then sought the floor.

“Mayaro has forgotten,” he replied very quietly, using the Delaware phrase — a tongue of which I scarcely understood a word. But I knew he had seen me somewhere, and preferred not to admit it. Indian caution, thought I, and I said:

“Is my brother Siwanois or Mohican?”

A cunning expression came into his features: