On the third day the trail of the Great Bear was well among the ranges and Tayoga calculated that they could not be many hours behind him, but all the evidence, as they saw it, showed conclusively that he was going toward Lake Champlain.

“It seems likely to me,” said the Onondaga, “that he left the rangers to seek us, and that Rogers meanwhile would move eastward.  Having learned in some way or other that he could not find us, he will now follow the rangers wherever they may go.”

“And we will follow him wherever he goes,” said Robert.

An hour later the Onondaga uttered an exclamation, and pointed to the trail.  Another man coming from the south had joined Willet.  The traces were quite distinct in the grass, and it was also evident from the character of the footsteps that the stranger was white.

“A wandering hunter or trapper?  A chance meeting?” said Robert.

Tayoga shook his head.

“Then a ranger who was out on a scout, and the two are going on together to join Rogers?”

“Wrong in both cases,” he said.  “I know who joined the Great Bear, as well as if I saw him standing there in the footprints he has made.  It was not a wandering hunter and it was not a ranger.  You will notice, Dagaeoga, that these traces are uncommonly large.  They are not slender like the footprints of the Great Bear, but broad as well as long.  Why, I should know anywhere in the world what feet made them.  Think, Dagaeoga!”

“I don’t seem to recall.”

“Willet is a great hunter and scout, among the bravest of men, skillful on the trail, and terrible in battle, but the man who is now with him is all these also.  A band attacking the two would have no easy task to conquer them.  You have seen both on the trail in the forest and you have seen both in battle.  Try hard to think, Dagaeoga!”

“Black Rifle!”

“None other.  It is far north for him, but he has come, and he and the Great Bear were glad to see each other.  Here they stood and shook hands.”

“There is not a possible sign to indicate such a thing.”

“Only the certain rules of logic.  Once again I bid you use your mind.  We see with it oftener than with the eye.  White men, when they are good friends and meet after a long absence, always shake hands.  So my mind tells me with absolute certainty that the Great Bear and Black Rifle did so.  Then they talked together a while.  Now the eye tells me, because here are footsteps in a little group that says so, and then they walked on, fearless of attack.  It is an easy trail to follow.”

He announced in a half hour that they were about to enter an old camp of the two men.

“Any child of the Hodenosaunee could tell that it is so,” he said, “because their trails now separate.  Black Rifle turns off to the right, and the Great Bear goes to the left.  We will follow Black Rifle first.  He wandered about apparently in aimless fashion, but he had a purpose nevertheless.  He was looking for firewood.  We need not follow the trail of the Great Bear, because his object was surely the same.  They were so confident of their united strength that they built a fire to cook food and take away the coldness of the night.  Although Great Bear had no food it was not necessary for him to hunt, because Black Rifle had enough for both.  The fact that the Great Bear did not go away in search of game proves it.

“I think we will find the remains of their fire just beyond the low hill on the crest of which the bushes grow so thick.  Once more it is mind and not eye that tells me so, Dagaeoga.  They would build a fire near because they had begun to look for firewood, which is always plentiful in the forest, and they would surely choose the dip which lies beyond the hill, because the circling ridge with its frieze of bushes would hide the flames.  Although sure of their strength they did not neglect caution.”

They passed over the hill, and found the dead embers of the fire.

“After they had built it Black Rifle sat on that side and the Great Bear on this,” said Tayoga, “and while they were getting it ready the Great Bear concluded to add something on his own account to the supper.”

“What do you mean, Tayoga?  Is this mind or eye?”

“A combination of the two.  The Great Bear is a wonderful marksman, as we know, and while sitting on the log that he had drawn up before the fire, he shot his game out of the tall oak on our right.”

“This is neither eye nor mind, Tayoga, it is just fancy.”

“No, Dagaeoga, it is mostly eye, though helped by mind.  My conclusion that he was sitting, when he pulled the trigger is mind chiefly.  He would not have drawn up the log unless he had been ready to sit down, and everything was complete for the supper.  The Great Bear never rests until his work is done, and he is so marvelous with the rifle that it was not necessary for him to rise when he fired.  Wilderness life demands so much of the body that the Great Bear never makes needless exertion.  There mind works, Dagaeoga, but the rest is all eye.  The squirrel was on the curved bough of the oak, the one that projects toward the north.”

“You assume a good deal to say that it was a squirrel and surely mind not eye would select the particular bough on which he sat.”

“No, Dagaeoga, eye served the whole purpose.  All the other branches are almost smothered in leaves, but the curved one is nearly bare.  It is only there that the casual glance of the Great Bear, who was not at that time seeking game, would have caught sight of the squirrel.  Also, he must have been there, otherwise his body could not have fallen directly beneath it, when the bullet went through his head.”

“Now tell me how your eye knows his body fell from the bough.”

“Ah, Dagaeoga!  Your eye was given to you for use as mine was given to me, then you should use it; in the forest you are lost unless you do.  It was my eye that saw the unmistakable sign, the sign from which all the rest followed.  Look closely and you will detect a little spot of red on the grass just beneath the bare bough.  It was blood from the squirrel.”

“You cannot be sure that it was a squirrel.  It might have been a pigeon or some other bird.”

“That, O, Dagaeoga, would be the easiest of all, even for you, if you could only use your eyes, as I bid you.  Almost at your feet lies a slender bone that cannot be anything but the backbone of a squirrel.  Beyond it are two other bones, which came from the same body.  We know as certainly that it was a squirrel as we know that the Great Bear ate first a wild goose, and then a wild duck.  But it is a good camp that those two great men made, and, as the night is coming, we will occupy it.”

They relighted the abandoned fire, warmed their food and ate, and Robert was once more devoutly glad that he had kept the heavy buffalo robe.  Deep fog came over the mountain soon after dark, and, after a while, a fine cold, and penetrating rain was shed from the heart of it.  They kept the fire burning and wrapped, Tayoga in his blankets, and, Robert in the robe, crouched before it.  Then they drew the logs that the Great Bear and Black Rifle had left, in such position that they could lean their backs against them, and slept, though not the two at the same time.  They agreed that it was wise to keep watch and Robert was sentinel first.

Tayoga, supported by the log, slept soundly, the flames illuminating his bronze face and showing the very highest type of the Indian.  Robert sat opposite, his rifle across his knees, but covered by his blanket to protect it from the fine rain, which was not only cold but insidious, trying to insert itself beneath his clothing and chill his body.  But he kept himself covered so well that none reached him, and the very wildness of his surroundings increased his sense of intense physical comfort.

He did not stir, except now and then to put a fresh chunk of wood on the fire, and the red blaze between Tayoga and himself was for a time the center of the world.  The cold, white fog was rolling up everywhere thick and impenetrable, and the fine rain, like a heavy dew that was distilled from it, fell incessantly.  Robert knew that it was moving up the valleys and clothing all the peaks and ridges.  He knew, too, that it would hide them from their enemies and his sense of comfort grew with the knowledge.  But his conviction that they were safe did not make him relax caution, and, since eye was useless in the fog, he made extreme call upon ear.

It seemed to him that the fog was a splendid conductor of sound.  It brought him the rustling of the foliage, the moaning of the light wind through the ravines, and, at last, another sound, sharp, distinct, a discordant note in the natural noises of the wilderness, which were always uniform and harmonious.  He heard it a second time, to his right, down the hill, and he was quite sure that it indicated the presence of man, man who in reality was near, but whom the fog took far away.  The vapors, however, would lift, then man might come close, and he felt that it was his part to discover who and what he was.

Still wrapped in the buffalo robe, he rose and took a few steps from the fire.  Tayoga did not stir, and he was proud that his tread had been without noise.  Beyond the rim of firelight, he paused and listening again heard the clank twice, not very loud but coming sharp and definite as before through the vapory air.  He parted the bushes very carefully and went down the side of a ravine, the wet boughs and twigs making no noise as they closed up after his passage.

But his progress was very slow, purposely so, as he knew that any mistake or accident might be fatal, and he intended that no fault of his should precipitate such a crisis.  Once or twice he thought of going back, deeming his a foolish quest, lost in a wilderness of bushes and blinding fog, but the sharp, clear clank stirred his purpose anew, and he went on down the slope, until he saw a red glow in the heart of the fog.  Then he sank down among the bushes and listened with intentness.  Presently the faint hum of voices came to his ear, and he was quite sure that many men were not far away.

He resumed his slow advance, but now he was glad the bushes were soaked with water, as they did not crackle or snap with the passage of his body, and the luminous glow in front of him broadened and deepened steadily.  Near the bottom of a deep valley he stopped and from his covert saw where great fires had driven the fog away.  Around the fires were many warriors, some of them sleeping in their blankets, while others were eating prodigiously, after their manner.  Rifles and muskets were stacked in French fashion and the clank, clank that Robert had heard had been made by the warriors as they put up their weapons.

Many were talking freely and seemed to rejoice in the food and fires.  It was Robert’s surmise that they had arrived but recently and were weary.  Their numbers were large, they certainly could not be less than four or five hundred, and his experience was great enough now to tell him that half of them, at least, were Canadian Indians.  All were in war paint, and they had an abundance of arms.

Robert’s eager eye sought Tandakora, but did not find him.  He had no doubt, however, that this great body of warriors was moving against Rogers and his rangers, and that it would soon be joined by the Ojibway chief.  Tandakora, anxious for revenge upon the Great Bear and the Mountain Wolf, would be willing to leave Montcalm for a while if he thought that by doing so he could achieve his purpose.  His gaze wandered from the warriors to the stacked rifles and muskets, and he saw that many of them were of English or American make, undoubtedly spoil taken at the capture of Oswego.  His heart swelled with anger that the border should have its own weapons turned against it by the foe.

It did not take him long to see enough.  It was a powerful force, equipped to strike, and now he was more anxious than ever to overtake Willet.  The fog was still thick and wet, distilling the fine rain, but he had forgotten discomfort, and, turning back on his path, he sought the dip in which he had left Tayoga sleeping.  He felt a certain pride that it had been his fortune to discover the band, and, as he had marked carefully the way by which he had come, it was not a difficult task to retrace his steps.

The Onondaga was still sleeping, his back against the log, but he awoke instantly when Robert touched him gently on the shoulder.

“What is it, Dagaeoga?” he whispered.  “You have seen something!  Your face tells me so!”

“My face tells you the truth,” replied Robert.  “There is a valley only a few hundred yards from us, and, in it, are about four hundred warriors, armed for battle.  All the signs indicate that they are going eastward in search of our friends.”

“You have done well, Dagaeoga.  You have used both eye and mind.  Was Tandakora there?”

“No, but I’m convinced he soon will be.”

“It appears likely.  They think, perhaps, they are strong enough to annihilate the rangers.”

“Maybe they are, unless the rangers are warned.  We ought to move at once.”

“But the fog is too thick.  We could not tell which way we were going.  We must not lose the trail of the Great Bear and Black Rifle, and, if the fog lifts, we can regain it in the morning, going ahead of the war band.”

“And then the warriors may pursue us.”

“What does it matter, if we keep well ahead of them and overtake the Great Bear and Black Rifle, who are surely going toward the rangers?  We will put out the fire, Dagaeoga, and stay here.  The fog protects us.  Now, you sleep and I will watch.”

His calmness was reassuring, and it was true that the fog was an almost certain protection, while it lasted.  They smothered the fire carefully, and then, Robert was sufficient master of his nerves, to go to sleep, wrapped in the invaluable buffalo robe.  The Onondaga kept vigilant watch.  His own ear, too, heard the occasional sound made by human beings in the valley below, but he did not stir from his place.  He had absolute confidence in Robert’s report, and he would not take any unnecessary risk.

An hour or two before dawn a wind began to rise, and Tayoga knew by feeling rather than sight that the fog was beginning to thin.  If the wind held, it would all blow away by sunrise, and the rain with it.  He awakened Robert at once.

“I think we would better move now,” he said.  “We shall soon be able to see our way, and a good start ahead of the war band is important.”

They made a northward curve, passing around the valley, in which the camp of the warriors lay, and, when the sun showed its first luminous edge over the horizon, they were several miles ahead.  The steady wind had carried all the fog and rain to the southward, but the forest was still wet and dripping.

“And now,” said Tayoga, “we must pick up anew the trail of the Great Bear and Black Rifle.  We are sure they were continuing east, and by ranging back and forth from north to south and from south to north we can find it.”

It was a full two hours before they discovered it, leading up a narrow gorge, and Robert grew anxious lest the war band was already on their own traces, which the warriors were sure to see in time.  So they hastened their own pursuit and very soon came to a thicket in which the two redoubtable scouts had passed the night.  The trail leading from it was comparatively fresh and Tayoga was hopeful that they might overtake them before the next sunset.

“They do not hurry,” he said.  “The Great Bear has been telling Black Rifle of us, and now and then it was their thought to go back into the west to make another hunt for us.  My certainty about it is based on nothing in the trail.  It is just mind once more.  It is exactly the idea that a valiant and patient man like the Great Bear would have, and it would appeal too, to the soul of such a great warrior as Black Rifle.  But after thinking well upon it, they have decided that the search would be vain for the present, and once more they go on, though the wish to find us puts weights on their feet.”

Before noon they came to a place where Black Rifle shot a deer.  The useless portions of the body that the two had left behind spoke a language none could fail to understand, and they were sure it was Black Rifle who had fired the shot, because his broader footprints led to the place where the body had fallen.

“It proves,” said Tayoga, “that the rangers are still well ahead, else two such wise men as the Great Bear and Black Rifle would not take the trouble to kill a deer here and carry so much weight with them.  It is likely that the Mountain Wolf and his men are on the shores of Oneadatote itself.”

All that afternoon the trail went upward higher and higher among the ranges and peaks, but the infallible eye of Tayoga never lost it for a moment.

“We will not overtake them today, as I had hoped,” he said, “but we shall certainly do so tomorrow before noon.”

“And the coming night is going to offer a striking contrast to the one just passed,” said Robert.  “It will be crystal clear.”

“So it will, Dagaeoga, and we will seek a camp among the rocks.  It is best to leave no traces for the warriors.”

They traveled a long distance on the stony uplift before they stopped for the night, and they did not build any fire, dividing the time into two watches, each kept with great vigilance.  But the pursuit which they were so sure was now on did not overtake them, and early in the morning they were once more on the traces of the two hunters.

“It is now sure we shall reach them before noon,” said Tayoga, “but in what manner we shall first see them I do not know.  The trail has become wonderfully fresh.  Ah, they turned suddenly from their course here, and soon they came back to it, at a point not more than ten feet away.  We need not follow them on their loop to see where they went.  We know without going.  They climbed the steep little peak we see on the right, from the crest of which they had a splendid view over an immense stretch of country behind us.  They looked in that direction because that was the point from which pursuit or danger would come.  The band behind us built a fire, and the Great Bear and Black Rifle saw its smoke.  They saw the smoke because they could see nothing else so far behind them.  After a good look, they went on at their leisure.  They had no fear.  It was easy for such as they to leave the band well in the rear, if they wished.”

“If they haven’t changed greatly since we last saw ’em,” said Robert, “they’ll go all the more slowly because of the pursuit, and we may catch ’em in a couple of hours.  Won’t Dave be surprised when he sees us?”

“It will be a pleasant surprise for him.  Here, they have stopped again, and one of them climbed the tall elm for another view, while the other stood guard by the trunk.  I think, Dagaeoga, that the Great Bear and Black Rifle were beginning to think less of flight than of battle.”

“You don’t mean that knowing the presence of the band behind us they intended to meet it?”

“Not to stop it, of course, but spirits such as theirs might have a desire to harm it a little, and impede its advance.  In any event, Dagaeoga, we shall soon see.  Here is where the climber came down, and then the two went on, walking slowly.  They walked slowly, because the traces indicate that they turned back often, and looked toward the point at which they had seen the smoke rising.  My mind tells me that the Great Bear thought it better to continue straight ahead, but that Black Rifle was anxious to linger, and get a few shots at the enemy.  It is so, because the Great Bear, as we know, is naturally cautious and would wish to do what is of the most service in the campaign, while it is always the desire of Black Rifle to injure the enemy as much as he can.”

“Your reasoning seems conclusive to me.”

“Did I not tell you, Dagaeoga, that you had the beginnings of a mind?  Use it sedulously, and it will grow yet more.”

“And the time may come when I can talk out of a dictionary as you do, Tayoga.”

“Which merely proves, Dagaeoga, that those who learn a language always talk it better than those who are born to it.  Ah, they have turned once more, and the trail leads again to the crest of a hill, where they will take another long look backward.  It seems that the wishes of Black Rifle are about to prevail.  Now we are at the top of the hill, and they stood here several minutes talking and moving about, as the traces show very clearly.  But look, Dagaeoga, they saw something very much closer at hand than smoke.  Their talk was interrupted with great suddenness, and they took to ambush.  They crouched among these bushes, and you and I know they were a very dangerous pair with their rifles ready.  Still, Dagaeoga, instead of their taking the battle to the warriors the battle was brought to them.”

“You think, then, an encounter occurred?”

“I know it.  They did not stay crouched here until the enemy went away, but moved off down the hill, their course on the whole leading away from the lake.  The enemy was before them, because they kept among the bushes, always in the densest part of them.  Here they knelt.  The bent grass stems indicate the pressure of knees.  The warriors must have been very close.

“Now the trail divides.  Look, Dagaeoga!  Black Rifle went to the right and the Great Bear to the left.  They formed a plan to flank the enemy and to assail him from two sides.  I should judge then that the warriors did not number more than five or six.  We will follow the Great Bear, who made the slender traces, and if necessary we will come back and follow also those of Black Rifle.  But I think we can read the full account of the contest which most certainly occurred from the evidence that the Great Bear left.”

“You feel quite sure then that there was fighting?”

“Yes.  It is not an opinion formed from the signs yet seen, but it is drawn from the characters of the Great Bear and Black Rifle.  They would not have taken so much care unless there was the certainty of conflict.  Here the Great Bear knelt again, and took a long look at his enemy or at least at the place where his enemy was lying.  They were coming to close quarters or he would not have knelt and waited.  Perhaps he held his fire because Black Rifle was making the wider circuit, and they meant to use their rifles at the same time.”

The Onondaga was on his own knees now, examining the faint trail intently, his eyes alight with interest.

“The event will not be delayed long,” he said, “because the Great Bear stopped continually, seeking an opportunity for a shot.  Here he pulled the trigger.”

He picked up a minute piece of the burned wadding of the muzzle-loading rifle.

“The warrior at whom he fired was bound to have been in the thicket beyond the open space,” he said, “and it was there that he fell.  He fell because at such a critical time the Great Bear would not have fired unless he was sure of his aim.  We will look into the thicket”

They found several spots of blood among the bushes and at another point about twenty feet away they saw more.

“Here is where the warrior fell before Black Rifle’s bullet,” said Tayoga.  “He and the Great Bear must have fired almost at the same time.  Undoubtedly the warriors retreated at once, carrying their dead with them.  Let us see if they did not unite, and leave the thicket at the farthest point from our two friends.”

The trail was very clear at the place the Onondaga had indicated, and also many more red spots were there leading away toward the east.

“We will not follow them.” said Tayoga, “because they do not interest us any more.  They have retreated and they do not longer enter into your campaign and mine, Dagaeoga.  We will go back and see where the left wing of our army, that was the Great Bear, reunited with the right wing, that was Black Rifle.”

They found the point of junction not far away, and then the deliberate trail led once more toward Champlain, the two pursuing it several hours in silence and both noticing that it was rapidly growing fresher.  At length Tayoga stopped on the crest of a ridge and said: 

“We no longer need to seek their trail, Dagaeoga, because I will now talk with the Great Bear and Black Rifle.”

“Very good, Tayoga.  I am anxious to hear what you will say and how you will say it.”

A bird sang at Robert’s side.  It was Tayoga trilling forth a melody, wonderfully clear and penetrating, a melody that carried far up the still valley beyond.

“You will remember, Dagaeoga,” he said, “that we have often used this call with the Great Bear.  The reply will soon come.”

The two listened and Robert’s heart beat hard.  He owed much to Willet.  Their relationship was almost that of son and father, and the two were about to meet after a long parting.  He never doubted for a moment that the Onondaga had always read the trail aright, and that Willet was with Black Rifle in the valley below them.

Full and clear rose the song of a bird out of the dense bushes that filled the valley.  When it was finished Tayoga sang again, and the reply came as before.  The two went rapidly down the slope and the stalwart figures of the hunter and Black Rifle rose to meet them.  The four did not say much, but in every case the grasp of the hand was strong and long.

“I went west in search of you, Robert,” said the hunter, “but I was compelled to come back, because of the great events that are forward here.  I felt, however, that Tayoga was there looking for you and would do all any number of human beings could do.”

“He found me and rescued me,” said Robert, “and what of yourself, Dave?”

“I’m attached, for the present, to the rangers under Rogers.  He’s on the shores of Champlain, and he’s trying to hold back a big Indian army that means to march south and join Montcalm for an attack on Fort William Henry or Fort Edward.”

“And there’s a great Indian war band behind you, too, Dave.”

“We know it.  We saw their smoke.  We also had an encounter with some scouting warriors.”

“We know that, too, Dave.  You ambushed ’em and divided your force, one of you going to the right and the other to the left.  Two of their warriors fell before your bullets, and then they fled, carrying their slain with them.”

“Correct to every detail.  I suppose Tayoga read the signs.”

“He did, and he also told me when he rescued me that you had carried the text of the letter we took from Garay to Colonel Johnson in time, and that the force of St. Luc was turned back.”

“Yes, the preparations for defense made an attack by him hopeless, and when his vanguard was defeated in the forest he gave up the plan.”

They did not stop long, as they knew the great war band behind them was pressing forward, but they felt little fear of it, as they were able to make high speed of their own, despite the weight of their packs, and for several days and nights they traveled over peaks and ridges, stopping only at short intervals for sleep.  They had no sign from the band behind them, but they knew it was always there, and that it would probably unite at the lake with the force the rangers were facing.

It was about noon of a gleaming summer day when Robert, from the crest of a ridge, saw once more the vast sheet of water extending a hundred and twenty-five miles north and south, that the Indians called Oneadatote and the white men Champlain, and around which and upon which an adventurous part of his own life had passed.  His heart beat high, he felt now that the stage was set again for great events, and that his comrades and he would, as before, have a part in the war that was shaking the Old World as well as the New.

In the afternoon they met rangers and before night they were in the camp of Rogers, which included about three hundred men, and which was pitched in a strong position at the edge of the lake.  The Mountain Wolf greeted them with great warmth.

“You’re a redoubtable four,” he said, “and I could wish that instead of only four I was receiving four hundred like you.”

He showed intense anxiety, and soon confided his reasons to Willet.

“You’ve brought me news,” he said, “that a big war band is coming from the west, and my scouts had told me already that a heavy force is to the northward, and what is worst of all, the northern force is commanded by St. Luc.  It seems that he did not go south with Montcalm, but drew off an army of both French and Indians for our destruction.  He remembers his naval and land defeat by us and naturally he wants revenge.  He is helped, too, by the complete command of the lake, that the French now hold.  Since we’ve been pressed southward we’ve lost Champlain.”

“And of course St. Luc is eager to strike,” said Willet.  “He can recover his lost laurels and serve France at the same time.  If we’re swept away here, both the French and the Indians will pour down in a flood from Canada upon the Province of New York.”

Robert did not hear this talk, as he was seeking in the ranger camp the repose that he needed so badly.  He had brought with him some remnants of food and the great buffalo robe that Tayoga had secured for him with so much danger from the Indian village.  Now he put down the robe, heaved a mighty sigh of relief and said to the Onondaga: 

“I’m proud of myself as a carrier, Tayoga, but I think I’ve had enough.  I’m glad the trail has ended squarely against the deep waters of Lake Champlain.”

“And yet, Dagaeoga, it is a fine robe.”

“So it is.  I should be the last to deny it, but now that we’re with the rangers I mean to carry nothing but my arms and ammunition.  To appreciate what it is to be without burdens you must have borne them.”

The hospitable rangers would not let the two youths do any work for the present, and so they took a luxurious bath in the lake, which they commanded as far as the bullets from their rifles could reach.  They rejoiced in the cool waters, after their long flight through the wilderness.

“It’s almost worth so many days and nights of danger to have this,” said Robert, swimming with strong strokes.

“Aye, Dagaeoga, it is splendid,” said the Onondaga, “but see that you do not swim too far.  Remember that for the time Oneadatote belongs to Onontio.  We had it, but we have lost it.”

“Then we’ll get it back again,” said Robert courageously.  “Champlain is too fine a lake to lose forever.  Wait until I’ve had a big sleep.  Then my brain will be clear, and I’ll tell how it ought to be done.”

The two returned to land, dressed, and slept by the campfire.