“You mean that you refuse?” he exclaimed.

“It is just what I meant.”

“May I ask why, when you are in such a hopeless position?”

“Tayoga, Mr. Willet and I wish to see how long we can endure the pangs of thirst without total collapse.  We’ve had quite a difference on the subject.  Tayoga says ten days, Mr. Willet twelve days, but I think we can stand it a full two weeks.”

De Galissonniere frowned.

“You are frivolous, Mr. Lennox,” he said, “and this is not a time for light talk.  I don’t know what you mean, but it seems to me you don’t appreciate the dire nature of your peril.  I liked you and your comrades when I met you in Quebec and I do not wish to see you perish at the hands of the savages.  That is why I have climbed up here to make you this offer, which I have wrung from the reluctant Tandakora.  It was he who assured me that the besieged were you.  It pains me that you see fit to reject it.”

“I know it was made out of a good heart,” said Robert, seriously, “and we thank you for the impulse that brought you here.  Some day we may be able to repay it, but we decline because there are always chances.  You know, Captain, that while we have life we always have hope.  We may yet escape.”

“I do not see wherein it is possible,” said the young Frenchman, with actual reluctance in his tone.  “But it is for you to decide what you wish to do.  Farewell.”

“Farewell, Captain de Galissonniere,” said Robert, with the utmost sincerity.  “I hope no bullet of ours will touch you.”

The captain made a courteous gesture of good-by and slowly descended the slope, disappearing among the bushes in the gorge, whence came a fierce and joyous shout.

“That was the cry of the savages when he told them our answer,” said Willet.  “They don’t want us to surrender.  They think that by-and-by we’ll fall into their hands through exhaustion, and then they can work their will upon us.”

“They don’t know about that fountain, that pure, blessed fountain,” said Robert, “the finest fountain that gushes out anywhere in this northern wilderness, the fountain that Tayoga’s Areskoui has put here for our especial benefit.”

His heart had become very light and, as usual when his optimism was at its height, words gushed forth.  Water, and their ability to get it whenever they wanted it, was the key to everything, and he painted their situation in such bright colors that his two comrades could not keep from sharing his enthusiasm.

“Truly, Dagaeoga did not receive the gift of words in vain,” said Tayoga.  “Golden speech flows from him, and it lifts up the minds of those who hear.  Manitou finds a use for everybody, even for the orator.”

“Though it was a hard task, even for Manitou,” laughed Robert.

They watched the whole afternoon without any demonstration from the enemy—­they expected none—­and toward evening the Onondaga, who was gazing into the north, announced a dark shadow on the horizon.