“What will I do, Tayoga?”

“You will say to the medicine man, ’Tell me exactly how long I have to live,’ and the medicine man will reply:  ’Ten minutes, O Dagaeoga, venerable chief and great orator.’  Then you will say:  ’Let all the people be summoned and let them crowd into the wigwam in which I lie,’ and when they have all come and stand thick about your bed, you will say, ’Now raise me into a sitting position and put the pillows thick behind my back and head that I may lean against them.’  Then you will speak to the people.  The words will flow from your lips in a continuous and golden stream.  It will be the finest speech of your life.  It will be filled with magnificent words, many of them, eight or ten syllables long.  It will be mellow like the call of a trumpet.  It will be armed with force, and it will be beautiful with imagery; it will be suffused and charged with color, it will be the very essence of poetry and power, and as the aged Dagaeoga draws his very last breath so he will speak his very last word, and thus, in a golden cloud, his soul will go away into infinite space, to dwell forever in the bosom of Manitou, with the immortal sachems, Tododaho and Hayowentha!”

“Do you know, Tayoga, I think that would be a happy death,” said Robert earnestly.

The Onondaga laughed heartily.

“Thus does Dagaeoga show his true nature,” he said.  “He was born with the spirit and soul of the orator, and the fact is disclosed often.  It is well.  The orator, be he white or red, will lose himself sometimes in his own words, but he is a gift from the gods, sent to lift up the souls, and cheer the rest of us.  He is the bugle that calls us to the chase and we must not forget that his value is great.”

“And having said a whole cargo of words yourself Tayoga, now what do you propose that we do?”

“Push on with all our strength for the caves.  I know now we are on the right path, because I recall the country through which we are passing.  At noon we will reach a small lake, in which the fish are so numerous that there is not room for them all at the same time in the water.  They have to take turns in getting the air above the surface on top of the others.  For that reason the fish of this lake are different from all other fish.  They will live a full hour on the bank after they are caught.”

“Tayoga, in very truth, you’ve learned our ways well.  You’ve become a prince of romancers yourself.”

At the appointed time they reached the lake.  There were no fish above its surface, but the Onondaga claimed it was due to the fact that the lake was covered with ice which of course kept them down, and which crowded them excessively, and very uncomfortably.  They broke two big holes in the ice, let down the lines which they always carried, the hooks baited with fragments of meat, and were soon rewarded with splendid fish, as much as they needed.