Then Henry stepped out, crept cautiously nearly up the bank, which was here very low, and lay pressed closely against the earth, but supported by the exposed root of a tree.
He had heard voices, those of Indians, he believed, and he wished to see.

Peering through a fringe of bushes that lined the bank he saw seven warriors and one white face sitting under the boughs of a great oak.
The face was that of Braxton Wyatt, who was now in his element, with a better prospect of success than any that he had ever known before.

Henry shuddered, and for a moment he regretted that he had spared Wyatt's life when he might have taken it.
But Henry was lying against the bank to hear what these men might be saying, not to slay.

Two of the warriors, as he saw by their paint, were Wyandots, and he understood the Wyandot tongue.

Moreover, his slight knowledge of Iroquois came into service, and gradually he gathered the drift of their talk.