It was Timmendiquas, head chief of the Wyandots, and
Henry had never seen him more splendid in manner and bearing than
he was as he thus met the representatives of the famous Six
Nations. Small though the Wyandot tribe might be, mighty was its
valor and fame, and White Lightning met the great Iroquois only
as an equal, in his heart a superior.
It was an extraordinary thing, but Henry, at this very moment,
burrowing in the earth that be might not lose his life at the
hands of either, was an ardent partisan of Timmendiquas. It was
the young Wyandot chief whom he wished to be first, to make the
greatest impression, and he was pleased when he heard the low hum
of admiration go round the circle of two hundred savage warriors.
It was seldom, indeed, perhaps never, that the Iroquois had
looked upon such a man as Timmendiquas.
Timmendiquas and his companions advanced slowly toward the
chiefs, and the Wyandot overtopped all the Iroquois. Henry could
tell by the manner of the chiefs that the reputation of the
famous White Lightning had preceded him, and that they had
already found fact equal to report.
The chiefs, Timmendiquas among them, sat down on logs before the
fire, and all the warriors withdrew to a respectful distance,
where they stood and watched in silence.
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