ayoga of all that he was going to lose.

There was no pity in the heart of Tandakora. He was a savage and he
could never be anything but a savage. He might admire the fortitude with
which Tayoga would endure the torture, but he would have no thought of
remitting it on that account. The bird sang again, or another like it,
because it was exactly the same sweet, piercing note, but now Tandakora
did not see the shoulders of the Onondaga quiver. Doubtless after the
first stab of pain that the bird had brought him he had steeled himself
to its renewal.

Tandakora would soon see how the Onondaga could stand the fire. The test
should be thorough and complete The Ojibway chieftain was a master
artist upon such occasions, and, as he continued the march, he thought
of many pleasant little ways in which he could try the steel of Tayoga's
nature. The captive certainly had shown no signs of shrinking so far,
and Tandakora was glad of it. The stronger the resistance the longer and
the more interesting would be the test.

The Ojibway had in mind a certain little valley a few miles farther to
the north, a secluded place where a leader of men like himself could do
as he pleased without fear of interruption. Already he was exulting over
the details, and to him, breathing the essence of triumph, the
wilderness was as beautiful as it had ever been to Robert and Tayoga,
though perhaps in a way that was peculiarly his own. Unlike Tayoga, he
had heard little of the outside world, and he cared nothing at all for
it. His thoughts never went beyond the forest, and the customs of savage
ancestors were his. What he intended to do they had often done, and the
tribes thought it right and proper.

"In half an hour, Tayoga, we will be at the place appointed," he said.

No answer.

"You said I would die at your hand, but there is only a half hour left
in which to make good the prophecy."

Still no answer.

"Tododaho, the patron saint of the Onondagas, is hidden on his star,
which is now on the other side of the world, and he cannot help you."

And still no answer.

"Does not fear strike into your heart, Tayoga? The flames that will burn
you are soon to be lighted. You are young, but a boy, you are not a
seasoned warrior, and you will not be able to bear it."

Tayoga laughed aloud, a laugh full and hearty. "I have heard frogs
croak in the muddy edge of a pond," he said. "I could not tell what they
meant, but there was as much sense in their