he French are a brave people," said the hunter, "but the most warlike
among them if they knew our errand would be willing for some of their
painted allies to drop us in the wilderness, and no questions would be
asked. You can do things on the border that you can't in the towns. We
might be tomahawked in here and nobody would ever know what became of
us."

"I think," said Tayoga, "that our danger increases. Tandakora after
leaving the son of Onontio, St. Luc, might not go back to him. He might
fear the anger of the Frenchman, and, too, he would still crave a scalp.
A warrior has followed an enemy for weeks to obtain such a trophy."

"You believe then," said Robert, "that the Ojibway is still on our
trail?"

Tayoga nodded. After a moment's silence he added:

"We come, too, to a region in which the St. Regis, the Caughnawaga, the
Ottawa and the Micmac, all allies of Onontio, hunt. The Ojibway may
meet a band and tell the warriors we are in the woods."

His look was full of significance and Robert understood thoroughly.

"I shall be glad," he said, "when we reach the St. Lawrence. We'll then
be in real Canada, and, while the French are undoubtedly our enemies,
we'll not be exposed to treacherous attack."

They were in the canoe as they talked and Tayoga was paddling, the
swiftness of the current now making the efforts of only one man
necessary. A few minutes later he turned the canoe to the shore and the
three got out upon the bank. Robert did not know why, but he was quite
sure the reason was good.

"Falls below," said Tayoga, as they drew the canoe upon the land. "All
the river drops over a cliff. Much white water."

They carried the canoe without difficulty through the woods, and when
they came to the falls they stopped a little while to look at the
descent, and listen to the roar of the tumbling water.

"I was here once before, three years ago," said Willet.

"Others have been here much later," said the Onondaga.

"What do you mean, Tayoga?"

"My white brother is not looking. Let him turn his eyes to the left. He
will see two wild flowers broken off at the stem, a feather which has
not fallen from the plumage of a bird, because the quill is painted, and
two traces of footsteps in the earth."

"As surely as the sun shines, you're right, Tayoga! Warriors have
passed here, though we can't tell how many! But the traces are not
more'n a half day old."

He picked up the feather and examined it carefully.