many
dangers, merely to take part in such a disaster? Unconsciously he began to
shout in an effort to encourage those with him, and although he did not
know it, it was a reply to the war cries of Tandakora. The smoke and the
odors of the burned gunpowder filled his nostrils and throat, and heated
his brain. Now and then he would stop his own shouting and listen for the
reply of Tandakora. Always it came, the ferocious note of the Ojibway
swelling and rising above the warwhoop of the other Indians.

"Dagaeoga looks for Tandakora," said the Onondaga.

"Truly, yes," replied Robert. "Just now it's my greatest wish in life to
find him with a bullet. I hear his voice almost continuously, but I can't
see him! I think the smoke hides him."

"No, Dagaeoga, it is not the smoke, it is Areskoui. I know it, because the
Sun God has whispered it in my ear. You will hear the voice of Tandakora
all through the battle, but you will not see him once."

"Why should your Areskoui protect a man like Tandakora, who deserves death,
if anyone ever did?"

"He protects him, today merely, not always. It is understood that I shall
meet Tandakora in the final reckoning. I told him so, when I was his
captive, and he struck me in the face. It was no will of mine that made me
say the words, but it was Areskoui directing me to utter them. So, I know,
O, my comrade, that Tandakora cannot fall to your rifle now. His time is
not today, but it will come as surely as the sun sets behind the peaks."

Tayoga spoke with such intense earnestness that Robert looked at him, and
his face, seen through the battle smoke, had all the rapt expression of a
prophet's. The white youth felt, for the moment at least, with all the
depth of conviction, the words of the red youth would come true. Then the
tremendous voice of Tandakora boomed above the firing and yelling, but, as
before, his body remained invisible. Tandakora's Indians, many of whom had
come with him from the far shores of the Great Lakes, showed all the
cunning and courage that made them so redoubtable in forest warfare. Armed
with good French muskets and rifles they crept forward among the thickets,
and poured in an unceasing fire. Encouraged by the success at Oswego, and
by the knowledge that the great St. Luc, the best of all the French
leaders, was commanding the whole force, their ferocity rose to the highest
pitch and it was fed also by the hope that they would destroy all the hated
and dreaded ran