t none the
less he was imbued with the religion of his race, and believed that the
whole world, the air, the forests, the mountains, and the lakes were
peopled with spirits, good or bad. Now he saw one of the greatest of
them all, Areskoui, the Sun God himself, in action and working a
miracle.

The untamable soul of Daganoweda was filled with wonder and admiration.
Not spiritual, he was nevertheless imaginative to a high degree. Through
the silver veil which softened the light of the sun more and more,
permitting his eyes to remain fixed upon it, he saw a mighty figure in
the very center of that vast globe of light, a figure that grew and grew
until he knew it was Areskoui, the Sun God himself.

A shiver swept over the powerful frame of Daganoweda. The Mohawk
chieftain, whose nerves never quivered before the enemy, felt as a
little child in the presence of the mighty Sun God. But his confidence
returned. Although the figure of Areskoui continued to grow, his face
became benevolent. He looked down from his hundred million miles in the
void, beheld the tiny figure of Daganoweda standing upon the earth, and
smiled. Daganoweda knew that it was so, because he saw the smile with
his own eyes, and, however perilous the venture might be, he knew then
it could not fail, because Areskoui himself had smiled upon it.

The great veil of mist deepened and thickened and was drawn slowly
across all the heavens. Robert felt a strange thrill of awe. It was, in
very truth, to him a phenomenon, more than an eclipse, not a mere
passage of the moon before the sun for which science gave a natural
account, but a sudden combination of light and air that had in it a
tinge of the supernatural.

All the Mohawks were awake now, everybody was awake and everybody
watched the sun, but perhaps it was Daganoweda who saw most. No tincture
of the white man's religion had ever entered his mind to question any of
his Iroquois beliefs. There was Areskoui, in the very center of the sun,
mighty and shining beyond belief, and still smiling across his hundred
million miles at the earth upon which Daganoweda stood. But, all the
while he was drawing his silver robe, fold on fold, thicker and tighter
about himself, and his figure grew dim.

One after another the distant islands in the lake sank out of sight, and
the fires were merely a faint red glow on the one occupied by St. Luc.
Over the waters the vapors swept in great billows and columns.
Daganoweda drew