“Too fat,” he said judicially, “much too fat for those who would roam the forest.  Woodsmen, scouts and runners should be lean.  It burdens them to carry weight.  And you, Achille Garay, will be much better off, if you drop twenty pounds.”

“Twenty pounds, Tayoga!” exclaimed Willet, who had joined him, a whole roasted pigeon in his hands.  “How can you make such an underestimate!  Our rotund Monsieur would be far more graceful and far more healthy if he dropped forty pounds!  And it behooves us, his trainers and physicians, to see that he drops ’em.  Then he will go back to Albany and to his good friend, Mynheer Hendrik Martinus, a far handsomer man than he was when he left.  It may be that he’ll be so much improved that Mynheer Hendrik will not know him.  Truly, Tayoga, this wild pigeon has a most savory taste!  When wild pigeon is well cooked and the air of the forest has sharpened your appetite to a knife edge nothing is finer.”

“But it is no better than the tender steak of young bear,” said Tayoga, with all the inflections of a gourmand.  “The people of my nation and of all the Indian nations have always loved bear.  It is tenderer even than venison and it contains more juices.  For the hungry man nothing is superior to the taste or for the building up of sinews and muscles than the steak of fat young bear.”

Garay writhed again in his bonds, and closed his eyes that he might shut away the vision of the two.  Robert was forced to smile.  At half past two, as he judged it to be by the sun, Willet said to Garay once more: 

“The papers, Monsieur Achille.”

But Garay, sullen and obstinate, refused to reply.  The hunter did not repeat the question then, but went back to the fire, whistling gayly a light tune.  The three were spending the day in homely toil, polishing their weapons, cleaning their clothing, and making the numerous little repairs, necessary after a prolonged and arduous campaign.  They were very cheerful about it, too.  Why shouldn’t they be?  Both Tayoga and the hunter had scouted in wide circles about the camp, and had seen that there was no danger.  For a vast distance they and their prisoner were alone in the forest.  So, they luxuriated and with abundance of appetizing food made up for their long period of short commons.

At half past four Willet repeated his question, but the lips of the spy remained tightly closed.

“Remember that I’m not urging you,” said the hunter, politely.  “I’m a believer in personal independence and I like people to do what they want to do, as long as it doesn’t interfere with anybody else.  So I tell you to think it over.  We’ve plenty of time.  We can stay here a week, two weeks, if need be.  We’d rather you felt sure you were right before you made up your mind.  Then you wouldn’t be remorseful about any mistake.”

“A wise man meditates long before he speaks,” said Tayoga, “and it follows then that our Achille Garay is very wise.  He knows, too, that his figure is improving already.  He has lost at least five pounds.”