Black Rifle remained with the leader, but Robert, Tayoga and Willet continued their flight together, not stopping until night, when they were safe from pursuit.  As the three went southward through the deep forest, they saw many trails that they knew to be those of hostile Indians, and nowhere did they find a sign of a friend.  All the wilderness seemed to have become the country of the enemy.  When they looked once more from the lofty shores upon the vivid waters of George, they beheld canoes, but as they watched they discovered that they were those of the foe.  A terrible fear clutched at their hearts, a fear that Montcalm, like St. Luc, had struck already.

“The tide of battle has flowed south of us,” said Tayoga.  “All that we find in the forest proclaims it.”

“I would you were not right, Tayoga,” said the hunter, “but I fear you are.”

They came the next day to the trail of a great army, soldiers and cannon.  Night overtook them while they were still near the shores of Lake George, following the road, left by the French and Indian host as it had advanced south, and the three, wearied by their long flight, drew back into the dense thickets for rest.  The darkness had come on thicker and heavier than usual, and they were glad of it, as they were well hidden in its dusky folds, and they wished to rest without apprehension.

They had food with them which they ate, and then they wrapped their blankets about their bodies, because a wind was coming from the lake, and its touch was damp.  Clouds also covered all the skies, and, before long, a thin, drizzling rain fell.  They would have been cold, and, in time, wet to the bone, but the blankets were sufficient to protect them.

“Areskoui, after smiling upon us for so long, has now turned his face from us,” said Tayoga.

“What else can you expect?” said the valiant Willet.  “It is always so in war.  You’re up and then you’re down.  We were masters of the peaks for a while, and by our capture of Garay’s letter we kept St. Luc from attacking Albany, but the stars never fight for you all the time.  We couldn’t do anything that would save the rangers from defeat.”

The Onondaga looked up.  The others could not see his face, but it was reverential, and the cold rain that fell upon it had then no chill for him.  Instead it was soothing.

“Tododaho is on his great star beyond the clouds,” he said, “and he is looking down on us.  We have done wrong or he and Areskoui would not have withdrawn their favor from us, but we have done it unknowingly, and, in time, they will forgive us.  As long as the Onondagas are true to him Tododaho will watch over them, although at times he may punish them.”

That Tododaho was protecting them even then was proved conclusively to Tayoga before the night was over.  A great war party passed within a hundred yards of them, going swiftly southward, but the three, swathed in their blankets, and, hidden in the dark thickets, had no fear.  They were merely three motes in the wilderness and the warriors did not dream that they were near.  When the last sound of their marching had sunk into nothingness, Tayoga said: