Again he was all for going forth and risking everything, and he noticed with pleasure that the hunter began to shift about and to peer into the forest as if some plan for action was turning in his mind.  But he said nothing, resolved to leave it all to Tayoga and Willet, and by-and-by, in the dark, to which his eyes had grown accustomed, he saw the two exchanging glances.  He was able to read these looks.  The hunter said:  “We must try it.  The time has come.”  The Onondaga replied:  “Yes, it is not wise to wait longer, lest we grow too feeble for a great effort.”  The hunter rejoined:  “Then it is agreed,” and the Onondaga said:  “If our comrade thinks so too.”  Both turned their eyes to young Lennox who said aloud:  “It’s what I’ve been waiting for a long time.  The sooner we leave the better pleased I’ll be.”

“Then,” said Willet, “in an hour we’ll start south, going down the trail between the high cliffs, and we’ll trust that either we’ve expiated our sin, whatever it was, or that Areskoui has forgiven us.  It will be terrible traveling, but we can’t wait any longer.”

They wrapped their blankets about their bodies as additional covering, and, at the time appointed, left their rude shelter.  Yet when they were away from its protection it did not seem so rude.  When their moccasins sank in the slush and the snow and rain beat upon their faces, it was remembered as the finest little shelter in the world.  The bodies of all three regretted it, but their wills and dire necessity sent them on.

The hunter led, young Lennox followed and Tayoga came last, their feet making a slight sighing sound as they sank in the half-melted snow and ice now several inches deep.  Robert wore fine high moccasins of tanned mooseskin, much stronger and better than ordinary deerskin, but before long he felt the water entering them and chilling him to the bone.  Nevertheless, keeping his resolution in mind, and, knowing that the others were in the same plight, he made no complaint but trudged steadily on, three or four feet behind Willet, who chose the way that now led sharply downward.  Once more he realized what an enormous factor changes in temperature were in the lives of borderers and how they could defeat supreme forethought and the greatest skill.  Winter with its snow and sleet was now the silent but none the less potent ally of the French and Indians in preventing their escape.

They toiled on two or three miles, not one of the three speaking.  The sleet and hail thickened.  In spite of the blanket and the deerskin tunic it made its way along his neck and then down his shoulders and chest, the chill that went downward meeting the chill that came upward from his feet, now almost frozen.  He could not recall ever before having been so miserable of both mind and body.  He did not know it just then, but the lack of nourishment made him peculiarly susceptible to mental and physical depression.  The fires of youth were not burning in his veins, and his vitality had been reduced at least one half.