rhaps he held his fire because Black
Rifle was making the wider circuit, and they meant to use their rifles at
the same time."

The Onondaga was on his own knees now, examining the faint trail intently,
his eyes alight with interest.

"The event will not be delayed long," he said, "because the Great Bear
stopped continually, seeking an opportunity for a shot. Here he pulled the
trigger."

He picked up a minute piece of the burned wadding of the muzzle-loading
rifle.

"The warrior at whom he fired was bound to have been in the thicket beyond
the open space," he said, "and it was there that he fell. He fell because
at such a critical time the Great Bear would not have fired unless he was
sure of his aim. We will look into the thicket"

They found several spots of blood among the bushes and at another point
about twenty feet away they saw more.

"Here is where the warrior fell before Black Rifle's bullet," said Tayoga.
"He and the Great Bear must have fired almost at the same time. Undoubtedly
the warriors retreated at once, carrying their dead with them. Let us see
if they did not unite, and leave the thicket at the farthest point from our
two friends."

The trail was very clear at the place the Onondaga had indicated, and also
many more red spots were there leading away toward the east.

"We will not follow them." said Tayoga, "because they do not interest us
any more. They have retreated and they do not longer enter into your
campaign and mine, Dagaeoga. We will go back and see where the left wing of
our army, that was the Great Bear, reunited with the right wing, that was
Black Rifle."

They found the point of junction not far away, and then the deliberate
trail led once more toward Champlain, the two pursuing it several hours in
silence and both noticing that it was rapidly growing fresher. At length
Tayoga stopped on the crest of a ridge and said:

"We no longer need to seek their trail, Dagaeoga, because I will now talk
with the Great Bear and Black Rifle."

"Very good, Tayoga. I am anxious to hear what you will say and how you will
say it."

A bird sang at Robert's side. It was Tayoga trilling forth a melody,
wonderfully clear and penetrating, a melody that carried far up the still
valley beyond.

"You will remember, Dagaeoga," he said, "that we have often used this call
with the Great Bear. The reply will soon come."

The two listened and Robert's heart beat hard. He owed much to Willet.
Their r