He had never seen him before, but his impressive reception, and the mixture of military and savage attire revealed him.

This could be none other than the great Mohawk war chief, Thayendanegea, the Brant of the white men, terrible name on the border.
Henry gazed at him eagerly from his covert, etching his features forever on his memory.

His face, lean and strong, was molded much like that of Timmendiquas, and like the Wyandot he was young, under thirty.
Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea-it was truly he-returned to the fire, and once again the trumpet-shaped pipe was smoked by all.

The two young chiefs received the seats of favor, and others sat about them.

But they were not the only great chiefs present, though all yielded first place to them because of their character and exploits.
Henry was not mistaken in his guess that this was an important council, although its extent exceeded even his surmise.