Tayoga, into whose hands Robert had entrusted himself with the uttermost faith, at last said stop, and drawing the paddles into the canoe they took long, deep breaths of relief.  Around them was a world of waters, silver under the moon and stars now piercing the dusk, and the Onondaga could see the vast star on which sat the mighty chieftain who had gone away four hundred years ago to eternal life.

“O Tododaho,” he murmured, “thou hast guarded us well.”

“Where do you think we are, Tayoga?” asked Robert.

“Perhaps twenty miles from land,” replied the Onondaga, “and the farther the better.”

“True, Tayoga.  Never before did I see a big lake look so kindly.  If it didn’t require so much effort I’d like to go to the very center of it and stay there for a week.”

“Even as it is, Dagaeoga, we will wait here a while and take the long rest we need.”

“And while we’re doing nothing but swing in our great canoe, Tayoga, I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me.  I’d been a prisoner much longer than I wished.”

“It but repays my debt, Dagaeoga.  You will recall that you helped to save me from the hands of Tandakora when he was going to burn me at the stake.  My imprisonment was short, but I have been in the forest the whole winter and spring seeking to take you from Langlade.”

“All of which goes to show, Tayoga, that we must allow only one of us to be captured at a time.  The other must go free in order to rescue the one taken.”

Although Robert’s tone was light, his feeling was far from frivolous, but he had been at extreme tension so long that he was compelled to seek relief.

“How did you manage it, Tayoga?” he asked.

“In the confusion of the attack on the forts and the rejoicing that followed it was easy,” replied the Onondaga.  “When so many others were dancing and leaping it attracted no attention for me to dance and leap also, and I selected, without interference, the boat, the extra paddle, weapons and ammunition that I wished.  Areskoui and Tododaho did the rest.  Do you feel stronger now, Dagaeoga?”

“Aye, I’m still able to handle the paddle.  I suppose we’d better seek a landing.  We can’t stay out in the lake forever.  Tayoga, you’ve taken the part of Providence itself.  Now did it occur to you in your infinite wisdom, while you were storing paddles, weapons and ammunition in this boat, to store food also?”

The Onondaga’s smile was wide and satisfying.

“I thought of that, too, Dagaeoga,” he replied, “because I knew our journey, if we should be so fortunate as to have a journey, would take us out on the lake, and I knew, also, that no matter how many hardships and dangers Dagaeoga might pass through, the time would come when he would be hungry.  It is always so with Dagaeoga.”

He took a heavy knapsack from the bottom of the canoe and opened it.

“It is a French knapsack,” he said, “and it contains both bread and meat, which we will enjoy.”

They ate in great content, and their spirits rose to an extraordinary degree, though Tayoga regretted the absence of clothing which his disguise had made necessary.  Having been educated with white lads, and having associated with white people so much, he was usually clad as completely as they, either in their fashion or in his own full Indian costume.

“My infinite wisdom was not so infinite that it told me to take a blanket,” he said, “and the wind coming down from the Canadian shore is growing cold.”

“I’m surprised to hear you speak of such trifles as that, Tayoga, when we’ve been dealing with affairs of life and death.”

“We are cold or we are warm, Dagaeoga, and peril and suffering do not alter it.  But lo! the wind is bringing the great mists with it, and we will escape in them.”

They turned the canoe toward a point far to the east of the Indian camp and began to paddle, not hastily but with long, slow, easy strokes that sent the canoe over the water at a great rate.  The fogs and vapors were thick and close about them, but Tayoga knew the direction.  Robert asked him if he had heard of Willet, and the Onondaga said he had not seen him, but he had learned from a Mohawk runner that the Great Bear had reached Waraiyageh with the news of St. Luc’s prospective advance, and Tayoga had also contrived to get news through to him that he was lying in the forest, waiting a chance to effect the rescue of Robert.

Toward morning they landed on a shore, clothed in deep and primeval forest, and with reluctance abandoned their canoe.

“It is an Abenaki craft,” said Tayoga.  “It is made well, it has served us well, and we will treat it well.”

Instead of leaving it on the lake to the mercy of storms they drew it into some bushes at the mouth of a small creek, where it would stay securely, and probably serve some day some chance traveler.  Then they plunged into the deep forest, but when they saw a smoke Robert remained hidden while Tayoga went on, but with the intention of returning.

The Onondaga was quite sure the smoke indicated the presence of a small village and his quest was for clothes.

“Let Dagaeoga rest in peace here in the thicket,” he said, “and when I come back I shall be clad as a man.  Have no fears for me.  I will not enter the village Until after dark.”

He glided away without noise, and Robert, having supreme confidence in him, lay down among the bushes, which were so dense that the keenest eyes could not have seen him ten feet away.  His frame was relaxed so thoroughly after his immense exertions and he felt such utter thankfulness at his escape that he soon fell into a deep slumber rather than sleep, and when he awoke the dark had come, bringing with it Tayoga.

“Lo, Dagaeoga,” said the Onondaga, in a tone of intense satisfaction, “I have done well.  It is not pleasant to me to take the property of others, but in this case what I have seized must have been captured from the English.  No watch was kept in the village, as they had heard of their great victory and the warriors were away.  I secured three splendid blankets, two of green and one of brown.  Since you have a coat, Dagaeoga, you can have one green blanket and I will take the other two, one to wear and the other to sleep in.  I also took away more powder and lead, and as I have my bullet molds we can increase our ammunition when we need it.  I have added, too, a supply of venison to our beef and bread.”

“You’re an accomplished burglar, Tayoga, but I think that in this case your patron saint, Tododaho, will forgive you.  I’m devoutly glad of the blanket.  I feel stiff and sore, after such great exertions, and I find I’ve grown cold with the coming of the dark.”

“It is a relapse,” said Tayoga with some anxiety.  “The strain on mind and body has been too great.  Better wrap yourself in the blanket at once, and lie quiet in the thicket.”

Robert was prompt to take his advice, as his body was hot and his sight was wavering.  He felt that he was going to be ill and he might get it over all the quicker by surrendering to it at once.  He rolled the blanket tightly about himself and lay down on the softest spot he could find.  In the night he became delirious and talked continually of Langlade, St. Luc and Montcalm.  But Tayoga watched by him continually until late, when he hunted through the forest by moonlight for some powerful herbs known to the Indians.  In the morning he beat them and bruised them and cooked them as best he could without utensils, and then dropped the juices into his comrade’s mouth, after which he carefully put out the fire, lest it be seen by savage rovers.

Robert was soon very much better.  He had a profuse perspiration and came out of his unconscious state, but was quite weak.  He was also thoroughly ashamed of himself.

“Nice time for me to be breaking down,” he said, “here in the wilderness near an Indian village, hundreds of miles from any of our friends, save those who are captured.  I make my apologies, Tayoga.”

“They are not needed,” said the Onondaga.  “You defended me with your life when I was wounded and the wolves sought to eat me, now I repay again.  There is nothing for Dagaeoga to do but to keep on perspiring, see that the blanket is still wrapped around him, and tonight I will get something in which to cook the food he needs.”

“How will you do that?”

“I will go again to my village.  I call it mine because it supplies what we need and I will return with the spoil.  Bide you in peace, Dagaeoga.  You have called me an accomplished burglar.  I am more, I am a great one.”

Robert had the utmost confidence in him, and it was justified.  When he awoke from a restless slumber, Tayoga stood beside him, holding in his hand a small iron kettle made in Canada, and a great iron spoon.

“They are the best they had in the village,” he said.  “It is not a large and rich village and so its possessions are not great, but I think these will do.  I have also brought with me some very tender meat of a young deer that I found in one of the lodges.”

“You’re all you claimed to be and more, Tayoga,” said Robert earnestly and gratefully.

The Onondaga lighted a fire in a dip, and cutting the deer into tiny bits made a most appetizing soup, which Robert’s weak stomach was able to retain and to crave more.

“No,” said Tayoga, “enough for tonight, but you shall have twice as much in the morning.  Now, go to sleep again.”

“I haven’t been doing anything but sleep for the last day or two.  I want to get up and walk.”

“And have your fever come back.  Besides, you are not strong enough yet to walk more than a few steps.”

Robert knew that he would be forced to obey, and he passed the night partly in dozing, and partly in staring at the sky.  In the morning he was very hungry and showed an increase of strength.  Tayoga, true to his word, gave him a double portion of the soup, but still forbade sternly any attempt at walking.

“Lie there, Dagaeoga,” he said, “and let the wind blow over you, and I’ll go farther into the forest to see if friend or enemy be near.”

Robert, feeling that he must, lay peacefully on his back after the Onondaga left him.  He was free from fever, but he knew that Tayoga was right in forbidding him to walk.  It would be several days yet before he could fulfill his old duties, as an active and powerful forest runner.  Yet he was very peaceful because the soreness of body that had troubled him was gone and strength was flowing back into his veins.  Despite the fact that he was lying on his back alone in the wilderness, with savage foes not far away, he believed that he had very much for which to be grateful.  He had been taken almost by a miracle out of the hands of his foes, and, when he was ill and in his weakness might have been devoured by wild beasts or might have starved to death, the most loyal and resourceful of comrades had been by his side to save him.

He saw the great star on which Tayoga’s Tododaho lived, and he accepted so much of the Iroquois theology, believing that it was in spirit and essence the same as his own Christian belief, that he almost imagined he could see the great Onondaga chieftain who had gone away four centuries ago.  In any event, it was a beneficent star, and he was glad that it shone down on him so brilliantly.

Tayoga before his departure had loaned him one of his blankets and now he lay upon it, with the other wrapped around him, his loaded pistol in his belt and his loaded rifle lying by his side.  The fire that the Onondaga had built in the dip not far away had been put out carefully and the ashes had been scattered.

Although it was midsummer, the night, as often happened in that northern latitude, had come on cool, and the warmth of the blankets was not unwelcome.  Robert knew that he was only a mote in all that vast wilderness, but the contiguity of the Indian village might cause warriors, either arriving or departing, to pass near him.  So he was not surprised when he heard footsteps in the bushes not far away, and then the sound of voices.  Instinctively he tried to press his body into the earth, and he also lifted carefully the loaded rifle, but second thought told him he was not likely to be seen.

Warriors presently came so near that they were visible, and to his surprise and alarm he saw the huge figure of Tandakora among them.  They were about a dozen in number, walking in the most leisurely manner and once stopped very close to him to talk.  Although he raised himself up a little and clutched the rifle more tightly he was still hopeful that they would not see him.  The Ojibway chieftain was in full war paint, with a fine new American rifle, and also a small sword swinging from his belt.  Both were undoubtedly trophies of Oswego, and it was certain that after carrying the sword for a while as a prize he would discard it.  Indians never found much use for swords.

Robert always believed that Tayoga’s Tododaho protected him that night, because for a while all the chances were against him.  As the warriors stood near talking a frightened deer started up in the thicket, and Tandakora himself brought it down with a lucky bullet, the unfortunate animal falling not thirty yards from the hidden youth.  They removed the skin and cut it into portions where it lay, the whole task taking about a half hour, and all the time Robert, lying under the brush, saw them distinctly.

He was in mortal fear lest one of them wander into the dip where Tayoga had built the fire, and see traces of the ashes, but they did not do so.  Twice warriors walked in that direction and his heart was in his mouth, but in neither case did the errand take them so far.  Tandakora was not alone in bearing Oswego spoils.  Nearly all of them had something, a rifle, a pistol or a sword, and two wore officers’ laced coats over their painted bodies.  The sight filled Robert with rage.  Were his people to go on this way indefinitely, sacrificing men and posts in unrelated efforts?  Would they allow the French, with inferior numbers, to beat them continuously?  He had seen Montcalm and talked with him, and he feared everything from that daring and tenacious leader.

While the Indians prepared the deer the moon and stars came out with uncommon brilliancy, filling the forest with a misty, silver light.  Robert now saw Tandakora and his men so clearly that it seemed impossible for them not to see him.  Once more he had the instinctive desire to press himself into the earth, but his mind told him that absolute silence was the most necessary thing.  As he lay, he could have picked off Tandakora with a bullet from his rifle, and, so far as the border was concerned, he felt that his own life was worth the sacrifice, but he loved his life and the Ojibway might be put out of the way at some other time and place.

Tayoga’s Tododaho protected him once more.  Two of the Indians wanted water and they started in search of a brook which was never far away in that region.  It seemed for a moment or two that they would walk directly into the dip, where scattered ashes lay, but the great Onondaga turned them aside just in time and they found at another point the water they wished.  Robert’s extreme tension lasted until they were back with the others.  Nevertheless their harmless return encouraged him in the belief that the star was working in his behalf.

The Indians were in no hurry.  They talked freely over their task of dressing and quartering the deer, and often they were so near that Robert could hear distinctly what they said, but only once or twice did they use a dialect that he could understand, and then they were speaking of the great victory of Oswego, in which they confirmed the inference, drawn from the spoils, that they like Tandakora had taken a part.  They were in high good humor, expecting more triumphs, and regarded the new French commander, Montcalm, as a great and invincible leader.

Robert was glad, then, that he was such an insignificant mote in the wilderness and had he the power he would have made himself so small that he would have become invisible, but as that was impossible he still trusted in Tayoga’s Tododaho.  The Indian chief gave two of the warriors an order, and they started on a course that would have brought them straight to him.  The lad gave himself up for lost, but, intending to make a desperate fight for it, despite his weakness, his hand crept to the hammer and trigger of his rifle.  Something moved in the thicket, a bear, perhaps, or a lynx, and the two Indians, when they were within twenty feet of him, turned aside to investigate it.  Then they went on, and it was quite clear again to Robert that he had been right about the friendly intervention of Tododaho.

Nor was it long until the truth was demonstrated to him once more, and in a conclusive manner.  The entire party departed, taking with them the portions of the deer, and they passed so very close to him that their wary eyes, which always watched on all sides, would have been compelled to see him, if Tododaho, or perhaps it was Areskoui, or even Manitou, had not seen fit just at that moment to draw a veil before the moon and stars and make the shadow so deep under the bush where young Lennox lay that he was invisible, although they stepped within fifteen feet of him.  They went on in their usual single file, disappearing in the direction of the village, while he lay still and gave thanks.

They had not been gone more than fifteen minutes when there was a faint rustle in the thicket, and Tayoga stood before him.

“I was hid in a clump of weeds not far away and I saw,” said the Onondaga.  “It was a narrow escape, but you were protected by the great powers of the earth and the air.  Else they would have seen you.”

“It is so,” said Robert, devoutly, “and it makes me all the more glad to see you, Tayoga.  I hope your journey, like all the others, has been fruitful.”

The Onondaga smiled in the dusk.

“It is a good village to which I go,” he replied in his precise fashion.  “You will recall that they had in Albany what they call in the English tongue a chemist’s shop.  It is such that I sought in the village, and I found it in one lodge, the owners of which were absent, and which I could reach at my leisure.  Here is a gourd of Indian tea, very strong, made from the essence of the sassafras root.  It will purge the impurities from your blood, and, in another day, your appetite will be exceedingly strong.  Then your strength will grow so fast that in a short time you will be ready for a long journey.  I have also brought a small sack filled with samp.”

Robert uttered a little cry of joy.  He craved bread, or at least something that would take its place, and samp, a variation of which is known as hominy, was a most acceptable substitute.

“You are, in truth, a most efficient burglar, Tayoga,” he said.

“I obtained also information,” continued the Onondaga.  “While I lay in one of the lodges, hidden under furs, I heard two of the old men talking.  They believe since they have taken Oswego that all things are possible for them and the French.  Montcalm appears to them the greatest of all leaders and he will take them from one victory to another.  Their defeat by Andiatarocte is forgotten, and they plan a great advance toward the south.  But they intend first to sweep up all the scouts and bands of the Americans and English.  Their first attack will be upon Rogers, him whom we call the Mountain Wolf.”

“Rogers!  Is he somewhere near us?” exclaimed Robert eagerly.

“Far to the east toward Andiatarocte, but they mean to strike him.  The Frenchmen De Courcelles and Jumonville will join with Tandakora, then St. Luc will go too and he will lead a great force against the Mountain Wolf, with whom, I suspect, our friend the Great Bear now is, hoping perhaps, as they hunt through the forest, to discover some traces of us.”

“I knew all along, Tayoga, that Dave would seek me and rescue me if you didn’t, or if I didn’t rescue myself, provided I remained alive, as you see I did.”

“The Great Bear is the most faithful of all comrades.  He would never desert a friend in the hands of the enemy.”

“You think then that we should try to meet the Mountain Wolf and his rangers?”

“Of a certainty.  As soon as Dagaeoga is strong enough.  Now lie still, while I scout through the forest.  If no enemy is near I will heat the tea, and then you must drink, and drink deep.”

He made a wide circuit, and, coming back, lighted a little fire on which he warmed the tea in the pot that he had taken from the village on an earlier night.  Then, under the insistence of Tayoga, Robert drank a quantity that amounted to three cups, and soon fell into a deep sleep, from which he awoke the next day with an appetite so sharp that he felt able to bite a big piece out of a tree.

“I think I’ll go hunt a buffalo, kill him and eat him whole,” he said in a large, round voice.

“If so Dagaeoga will have to roam far,” said Tayoga sedately.  “The buffalo is not found east of the Alleghanies, as you well know.”

“Of course I know it, but what are time and distance to a Samson like me?  I say I will go forth and slay a buffalo, unless I am fed at once and in enormous quantities.”

“Would a haunch of venison and a gallon of samp help Dagaeoga a little?”

“Yes, a little, they’d serve as appetizers for something real and substantial to come.”

“Then if you feel so strong and are charged so full of ambition you can help cook breakfast.  You have had an easy time, Dagaeoga, but life henceforth will not be all eating and sleeping.”

They had a big and pleasant breakfast together and Robert rejoiced in his new vigor.  It was wonderful to be so strong after having been so weak, it was like life after death, and he was eager to start at once.

“It is a good thing to have been ill,” he said, “because then you know how fine it is to be well.”

“But we will not depart before tomorrow,” said the Onondaga decisively.

“And why?”

“Because you have lived long enough in the wilderness, Dagaeoga, to know that one must always fight the weather.  Look into the west, and you will see a little cloud moving up from the horizon.  It does not amount to much at present, but it contains the seed of great things.  It has been sent by the Rain God, and it will not do yet for Dagaeoga, despite his new strength, to travel in the rain.”

Robert became anxious as he watched the little cloud, which seemed to swell as he looked at it, and which soon assumed an angry hue.  He knew that Tayoga had told the truth.  Coming out of his fever it would be a terrible risk for him to become drenched.

“We will make a shelter such as we can in the dip where we built the fire,” said Tayoga, “and now you can use your new strength as much as you will in wielding a tomahawk.”

They cut small saplings with utmost speed and speedily accomplished one of the most difficult tasks of the border, making a rude brush shelter which with the aid of their blankets would protect them from the storm.  By the time they had finished, the little cloud which had been at first a mere signal had grown so prodigiously that it covered the whole heavens, and the day became almost as dark as twilight.  The lightning began to flash in great, blazing strokes, and the thunder was so nearly continuous that the earth kept up an incessant jarring.  Then the rain poured heavily and Robert saw Tayoga’s wisdom.  Although the shelter and his blanket kept the rain from him he felt cold in the damp, and shivered as if with a chill.

“When the storm stops, which will not be before dark,” said Tayoga, “I shall go to the village and get you a heavy buffalo robe.  They have some, acquired in trade from the Indians of the western plains, and one of them belongs to you.  So, Dagaeoga, I will get it.”

“Tayoga, you have taken too much risk for me already.  I can make out very well as I am, and suppose we start tonight in search of Rogers and Willet.”

“I mean to have my way, because in this case my way is right.  We work together as partners, and the partnership becomes ineffective when one member of it cannot endure the hardships of a long march, and perhaps of battle.  And has not Dagaeoga said that I am an accomplished burglar?  I prove it anew tonight.  As soon as the rain ceases I will go to the village, the great storehouse of our supplies.”

The Onondaga spoke in a light tone with a whimsical inflection, but Robert saw that he was intensely in earnest, and that it was not worth while for him to say more.  The great storm passed on to the southward, the rain sank to a drizzle, but it was very cold in the forest, and Robert’s teeth chattered, despite every effort to control his body.

“I go, Dagaeoga,” said Tayoga, “and I shall return with the great, warm buffalo robe that belongs to you.”

Then he melted without noise into the darkness and Robert was alone.  He knew the mission of the Onondaga to be a perilous one, but he did not doubt his success.  The cold drizzle fell on the shelter of brush and saplings, and some of it seeped through.  Now and then a drop found its way down his neck, and it felt like ice.  Physically he was very miserable, and it began to depress his spirit.  He hoped that Tayoga would not be long in obtaining the buffalo robe.

The thunder moaned a little far to the south, and then died down entirely.  There were one or two stray flashes of lightning and then no more.  He sank into a sort of doze that was more like a stupor, from which he was awakened by a dusky figure in the doorway of the little shelter.  It was Tayoga, and he bore a heavy dark bundle over his arm.

“I have brought the buffalo robe that belongs to you, Dagaeoga,” he said cheerfully.  “It was in the lodge of the head chief of the village and I had to wait until he went forth to greet Tandakora, who came with a band of his warriors to claim shelter, food and rest.  Then I took what was your own and here it is, one of the finest I have ever seen.”

He held up the great buffalo robe, tanned splendidly and rich in fur and the sight of it made Robert’s teeth stop chattering.  He wrapped it around his body and sufficient warmth came back.

“You’re a marvel, Tayoga,” he said.  “Does the village contain anything else that belongs to us?”

“Nothing that I can think of now.  The rain will cease entirely in an hour, and then we will start.”

His prediction was right, and they set forth in the dark forest, Robert wearing the great buffalo robe which stored heat and consequent energy in his frame.  But the woods were so wet, and it was so difficult to find a good trail that they did not make very great progress, and when dawn came they were only a few miles away.  Robert’s strength, however, stood the test, and they dared to light a fire and have a warm breakfast.  Much refreshed they plunged on anew, hunting for friends who could not be much more than motes in the wilderness.  Robert hoped that some chance would enable him to meet Willet, to whom he owed so much, and who stood in the place of a father to him.  It did not seem possible that the Great Bear could have fallen in one of the numerous border skirmishes, which must have been fought since his capture.  He could not associate death with a man so powerful and vital as Willet.

The day was bright and warm, and he took off the buffalo robe.  It was quite a weight to be carried, but he knew he would need it again when night came and particularly if there were other storms.  They saw many trails in the afternoon and Tayoga was quite sure they were made by war bands.  Nearly all of them led southeast.

“The savages in the west and about the Great Lakes,” he said, “have heard of the victory at Oswego, and so they pour out to the French standard, expecting many scalps and great spoils.  Whenever the French win a triumph it means more warriors for them.”

“And may not some of the bands going to the war stumble on our own trail?”

“It is likely, Dagaeoga.  But if it comes to battle see how much better it is that you should be strong and able.”

“Yes, I concede now, Tayoga, that it was right for us to wait as long as we did.”

The trails grew much more numerous as they advanced.  Evidently swarms of warriors were about them and before midday Tayoga halted.

“It will not be wise for us to advance farther,” he said.  “We must seek some hiding place.”

“Hark to that!” exclaimed Robert.

A breeze behind them bore a faint shout to his ear.  Tayoga listened intently, and it was repeated once.

“Pursuit!” he said briefly.  “They have come by chance upon our trail.  It may be Tandakora himself and it is unfortunate.  They will never leave us now, unless they are driven back.”

“Then we’d better turn back towards the north, as the thickest of the swarms are sure to be to the south of us.”

“It is so.  Again the longest of roads becomes the safest for us, but we will not make it wholly north, we will bear to the east also.  I once left a canoe, hidden in the edge of a lake there, and we may find it.”

“What will we do with it if we find it?”

“Tandakora will not be able to follow the trail of a canoe.  But now we must press forward with all speed, Dagaeoga.  See, there is a smoke in the south and now another answers it in the north.  They are talking about us.”

Robert saw the familiar signals which always meant peril to them, and he was willing to go forward at the uttermost speed.  He had become hardened in a measure to danger, though it seemed to him that he was passing through enough of it to last a lifetime.  But his soul rose to meet it.

They used all the customary devices to hide their traces, wading when there was water, walking on stones or logs when they were available, but they knew these stratagems would only delay Tandakora, they could not throw him off the trail entirely.  They hoped more from the coming dark, and, when night came, it found them going at great speed.  Just at twilight they heard a faint shout again and the faint shout in reply, telling them the pursuit was maintained, but the night fortunately proved to be very dark, and, an hour or two later, they came to a heavy windrow, the result of some old hurricane into which they drew for shelter and rest.  They knew that not even the Indian trailers could find them there in such darkness, and for the present they were without apprehension.

“Do you think they will pass us in the night?” asked Robert.

“No,” replied Tayoga.  “They will wait until the dawn and pick up the trail anew.”

“Then we’d better start again about midnight.”

“I think so, too.”

Meanwhile, lying comfortably among the fallen trees and leaves, they waited in silence.