chevalier now appeared in the guise of a bold and skillful foe, with
whom they must match their wisdom and courage. Doubtless he had formed
a new band, and, at the head of it, was already roaming the country
south of the St. Lawrence. Well, if that were the case perhaps they
would meet once more, and he would have given much to penetrate the
future.

"Why don't you go to sleep, Robert?" asked the hunter.

"For the best of reasons. Because I can't," replied the lad.

"Perhaps it's well to stay awake," said the Onondaga gravely.

"Why, Tayoga?"

"Someone comes."

"Here in the ravine?"

"No, not in the ravine but on the cliff opposite us."

Robert strained both eye and ear, but he could neither see nor hear
any human being. The wall on the far side of the ravine rose to a
considerable height, its edge making a black line against the sky, but
nothing there moved.

"Your fancy is too much for you, Tayoga," he said. "Thinking that
someone might come, it creates a man out of air and mist."

"No, Dagaeoga, my fancy sleeps. Instead, my ear, which speaks only the
truth, tells me a man is walking along the crest of the cliff, and
coming on a course parallel with our ravine. My eye does not yet see
him, but soon it will confirm what my ear has already told me. This
deep cleft acts as a trumpet and brings the sound to me."

"How far away, then, would you say is this being, who, I fear, is
mythical?"

"He is not mythical. He is reality. He is yet about three hundred
yards distant. I might not have heard him, even with the aid of the
cleft, but tonight Areskoui has given uncommon power to my ear,
perhaps to aid us, and I know he is walking among thick bushes. I can
hear the branches swish as they fly back into place, after his body
has passed. Ah, a small stick popped as it broke under his foot!"

"I heard nothing."

"That is not my fault, O Dagaeoga. It is a heavy man, because I now
hear his footsteps, even when they do not break anything. He walks
with some uncertainty. Perhaps he fears lest he should make a false
step, and tumble into the ravine."

"Since you can tell so much through hearing, at such a great distance,
perhaps you know what kind of a man the stranger is. A warrior, I
suppose?"

"No, he is not of our race. He would not walk so heavily. It is a
white man."

"One of Rogers' rangers, then? Or maybe it is Rogers himself, or
perhaps Black Rifle."

"It is none of those. They would advance with les