Robert began to rub his cold hands, and, unfolding his blanket, he wrapped it about his body, drawing it well up over his neck and ears.  Tayoga imitated him and Willet, who was soon awakened by the cold blast, protected himself in a similar manner.

“What does the Great Bear think?” asked the Onondaga.

The hunter, with his face to the wind, meditated a few moments before replying.

“I was testing that current of air on my face and eyes,” he said, “and, speaking the truth, Tayoga, I don’t like it.  The wind seemed to grow colder as I waited to answer you.  Listen to the leaves falling before it!  Their rustle tells of a bitter night.”

“And while we freeze in it,” said Robert, whose imagination was already in full play, “the French and Indians build as many and big fires as they please, and cook before them the juicy game they killed today.”

The hunter was again very thoughtful.

“It looks as if we would have to kindle a fire,” he said, “and tomorrow we shall have to hunt bear or deer for ourselves, because we have food enough left for only one more meal.”

“The face of Areskoui is turned from us,” said Tayoga.  “We have done something to anger him, or we have failed to do what he wished, and now he sends upon us a hard trial to test us and purify us!  A great storm with fierce cold comes!”

The wind rose suddenly, and it began to make a sinister hissing among all the passes and gorges.  Robert felt something damp upon his face, and he brushed away a melting flake of snow.  But another and another took its place and the air was soon filled with white.  And the flakes were most aggressive.  Driven by the storm they whipped the cheeks and eyes of the three, and sought to insert themselves, often with success, under their collars, even under the edges of the protecting blankets, and down their backs.  Robert, despite himself, shivered violently and even the hunter was forced to walk vigorously back and forth in the effort to keep warm.  It was evident that the Onondaga had told the truth, and that the face of Areskoui was in very fact turned from them.

Robert awaited the word, looking now and then at Willet, but the hunter hung on for a long time.  The leaves fell in showers before the storm, making a faint rustling like the last sigh of the departing, and the snow, driven with so much force, stung his face like hail when it struck.  He was anxious for a fire, and its vital heat, but he was too proud to speak.  He would endure without complaint as much as his comrades, and he knew that Tayoga, like himself, would wait for the older man to speak.

But he could not keep, meanwhile, from thinking of the French and Indians beside their vast heaps of glowing coals, fed and warmed to their hearts’ content, while the three lay in the dark and bitter cold of the wilderness.  An hour dragged by, then two, then three, but the storm showed no sign of abating.  The sinister screaming of the wind did not cease and the snow accumulated upon their bodies.  At last Willet said: