“We can do nothing at present so far as the war is concerned,” said Willet.  “An army must eat before it can fight, but it’s likely that the snow and cold will stop the operations of the French and Indians also.  While we’re saving our own lives other operations will be delayed, and later on we may find Garay going back.”

“It is best to go down the mountain and to the south,” said Tayoga, in his precise school English.  “It may be that the snow has fallen only on the high peaks and ridges.  Then we’ll be sure to find game, and perhaps other food which we can procure without bullets.”

“Do you think we’d better move now?” asked Robert.

“We must send out a scout first,” said Willet.

It was agreed that Tayoga should go, and in about two hours he returned with grave news.  The warriors were out again, hunting in the snow, and although unconscious of it themselves they formed an almost complete ring about the three, a ring which they must undertake to break through now in full daylight, and with the snow ready to leave a broad trail of all who passed.

“They would be sure to see our path,” said Tayoga.  “Even the short trail I made when I went forth exposes us to danger, and we must trust to luck that they will not see it.  There is nothing for us to do, but to remain hidden here, until the next night comes.  It is quite certain that the face of Areskoui is still turned from us.  What have we done that is displeasing to the Sun God?”

“I can’t recall anything,” said Robert.

“Perhaps it is not what we have done but what we have failed to do, though whatever it is Areskoui has willed that we lie close another day.”

“And starve,” said Robert ruefully.

“And starve,” repeated the Onondaga.

The three crouched once more under the lee of the cliff, but toward noon they built their wooden wall another foot higher, driven to the work by the threatening aspect of the sky, which turned to a somber brown.  The wind sprang up again, and it had an edge of damp.

“Soon it will rain,” said Tayoga, “and it will be a bitter cold rain.  Much of the snow will melt and then freeze again, coating the earth with ice.  It will make it more difficult for us to travel and the hunting that we need so much must be delayed.  Then we’ll grow hungrier and hungrier.”

“Stop it, Tayoga,” exclaimed Robert.  “I believe you’re torturing me on purpose.  I’m hungry now.”

“But that is nothing to what Dagaeoga will be tonight, after he has gone many hours without food.  Then he will think of the juicy venison, and of the tender steak of the young bear, and of the fine fish from the mountain streams, and he will remember how he has enjoyed them in the past, but it will be only a memory.  The fish that he craves will be swimming in the clear waters, and the deer and the bear will be far away, safe from his bullet.”

“I didn’t know you had so much malice in your composition, Tayoga, but there’s one consolation; if I suffer you suffer also.”