ve more.

"No," said Tayoga, "enough for tonight, but you shall have twice as much in
the morning. Now, go to sleep again."

"I haven't been doing anything but sleep for the last day or two. I want to
get up and walk."

"And have your fever come back. Besides, you are not strong enough yet to
walk more than a few steps."

Robert knew that he would be forced to obey, and he passed the night partly
in dozing, and partly in staring at the sky. In the morning he was very
hungry and showed an increase of strength. Tayoga, true to his word, gave
him a double portion of the soup, but still forbade sternly any attempt at
walking.

"Lie there, Dagaeoga," he said, "and let the wind blow over you, and I'll
go farther into the forest to see if friend or enemy be near."

Robert, feeling that he must, lay peacefully on his back after the Onondaga
left him. He was free from fever, but he knew that Tayoga was right in
forbidding him to walk. It would be several days yet before he could
fulfill his old duties, as an active and powerful forest runner. Yet he was
very peaceful because the soreness of body that had troubled him was gone
and strength was flowing back into his veins. Despite the fact that he was
lying on his back alone in the wilderness, with savage foes not far away,
he believed that he had very much for which to be grateful. He had been
taken almost by a miracle out of the hands of his foes, and, when he was
ill and in his weakness might have been devoured by wild beasts or might
have starved to death, the most loyal and resourceful of comrades had been
by his side to save him.

He saw the great star on which Tayoga's Tododaho lived, and he accepted so
much of the Iroquois theology, believing that it was in spirit and essence
the same as his own Christian belief, that he almost imagined he could see
the great Onondaga chieftain who had gone away four centuries ago. In any
event, it was a beneficent star, and he was glad that it shone down on him
so brilliantly.

Tayoga before his departure had loaned him one of his blankets and now he
lay upon it, with the other wrapped around him, his loaded pistol in his
belt and his loaded rifle lying by his side. The fire that the Onondaga had
built in the dip not far away had been put out carefully and the ashes had
been scattered.

Although it was midsummer, the night, as often happened in that northern
latitude, had come on cool, and the warmth of the blankets was not
unw