to the bird a very good eye that he may see
his food, which is so small. It may be that the birds and animals which
have given us warning of the enemy's approach before may do it again."

"At any rate, we can hope so. Are we as deserving now as we were then?"

"Yes, we can hope, Dagaeoga. Hope is never forbidden to anybody."

"I see that you're a philosopher, Tayoga."

"I try to be one," said the Onondaga, his eyes twinkling.

"Do you think that bird singing with so much power and beauty overhead
sees us at last?"

"No, because he would certainly have stopped long enough to gratify his
curiosity. Even a bird would want to know why strange creatures come
into his thicket."

"Then as long as he sings I shall know that danger is not near. We have
been watched over by birds before."

"Again you talk like a little child, Dagaeoga. I teach you the wisdom of
the woods, and you forget. The bird may see a worm or a moth or
something else that is good to eat, and then he will stop singing to
dart for his food. A bird must eat, and his love of music often gives
way to his love of food."

"You speak as if you were talking from a book."

"I learned your language mostly out of books, and so I speak as they are
written. Ah, the song of the bird has stopped and he has gone away! But
we do not know whether he has been alarmed by the coming of our enemy or
has seen food that he pursues."

"It's food, Tayoga; I can hear him, faintly, singing in another tree,
some distance to our right. Probably having captured the worm or the
moth or whatever it was he was pursuing, and having devoured it, he is
now patting his stomach in his pleasure and singing in his joy."

"And as a sentinel he is no longer of any use to us. Then we will watch
for the little animals that run on the ground. They cannot fly over the
heads of Ojibway and Caughnawaga warriors, and so, if our enemies come,
they, too, are likely to come our way."

"Then I'll rest awhile, Tayoga, and it may be that I'll doze. If a
rabbit runs in our direction wake me up."

"You may pretend to sleep, Dagaeoga, but you will not. You may close
your eyes, but you cannot close your ears, nor can you still your
nerves. One waits not with eyes and ears alone, but with all the fiber
of the body."

"True, Tayoga. I was but jesting. I couldn't sleep if I tried. But I can
rest."

He stretched himself in an easy position, a position, also, that allowed
him to go into instant action