tation, Robert."

"Of course, Dave. And you, Tayoga, are you willing to go with us?"

"It is far from the vale of Onondaga," replied the young Indian, "but
I have already made the great journey to Quebec with my comrades,
Dagaeoga and the Great Bear. I am willing to see more of the world of
which I read in the books at Albany. If the fortunes of Dagaeoga take
him on another long circle I am ready to go with him."

"Spoken like a warrior, Tayoga," said the hunter. "I have some
influence, and if we join the army that is to march against Fort
Duquesne I'll see that you receive a place befitting your Onondaga
rank and your quality as a man."

"And so that is settled," said Robert. "We three stand together no
matter what may come."

"Stand together it is, no matter what may come," said Willet.

"We are, perhaps, as well in one place as in another," said Tayoga
philosophically, "because wherever we may be Manitou holds us in the
hollow of his hand."

A great gust of wind came with a shriek down one of the gorges, and
the snow was whipped into their faces, blinding them for a moment.

"It is good to be aboard a stout sloop in such a storm," said Robert,
as he wiped his eyes clear. "It would be hard to live up there on
those cliffs in all this driving white winter."

A deep rumbling sound came back from the mountains, and he felt a
chill that was not of the cold creep into his bones.

"It is the wind in the deep gorges," said Tayoga, "but the winds
themselves are spirits and the mountains too are spirits. On such a
wild night as this they play together and the rumbling you hear is
their voices joined in laughter."

Robert's vivid mind as usual responded at once to Tayoga's imagery,
and his fancy went as far as that of the Onondaga, and perhaps
farther. He filled the air with spirits. They lined the edge of the
driving white storm. They flitted through every cleft and gorge, and
above every ridge and peak. They were on the river, and they rode upon
the waves that were pursuing one another over its surface. Then he
laughed a little at himself.

"My fancy is seeing innumerable figures for me," he said, "where my
eyes really see none. No human being is likely to be abroad on the
river on such a night as this."

"And yet my own eyes tell me that I do see a human being," said
Tayoga, "one that is living and breathing, with warm blood running in
his veins."

"A living, breathing man! where, Tayoga?"

"Look at the s