Both were soon slumbering soundly in their blankets and furs, and all that night and all the next day the snow fell on the high mountains in the heart of which they lay.  There was no wind, and it came straight down, making an even depth on ridge, slope and valley.  It blotted out the mouths of the caves, and it clothed all the forest in deep white.  Robert and Tayoga were but two motes, lost in the vast wilderness, which had returned to its primeval state, and the Indians themselves, whether hostile or friendly, sought their villages and lodges and were willing to leave the war trail untrodden until the months of storm and bitter cold had passed.

Robert slept heavily.  His labors in preparation for the winter had been severe and unremitting, and his nerves had been keyed very high by the arrival of the bears and the singular quality in the air.  Now, nature claimed her toll, and he did not awake until nearly noon, Tayoga having preceded him a half hour.  The Onondaga stood at the door of the cave, looking over the stones that closed its lower half.  Fresh air poured in at the upper half, but Robert saw there only a whitish veil like a foaming waterfall.

“The time o’ day, Sir Tayoga, Knight of the Great Forest,” he said lightly and cheerfully.

“There is no sun to tell me,” replied the Onondaga.  “The face of Areskoui will be hidden long, but I know that at least half the day is gone.  The flakes make a thick and heavy white veil, through which I cannot see, and great as are the snows every winter on the high mountains, this will be the greatest of them all.”

“And we’ve come into our lair.  And a mighty fine lair it is, too.  I seem to adapt myself to such a place, Tayoga.  In truth, I feel like a bear myself.  You say that the souls of warriors have gone into the bears about us, and it may be that the soul of a bear has come into me.”

“It may be,” said Tayoga, gravely.  “It is at least a wise thought, since, for a while, we must live like bears.”

Robert would have chafed, any other time, at a stay that amounted to imprisonment, but peace and shelter were too welcome now to let him complain.  Moreover, there were many little but important house-hold duties to do.  They made needles of bone, and threads of sinew and repaired their clothing.  Tayoga had stored suitable wood and bone and he turned out arrow after arrow.  He also made another bow, and Robert, by assiduous practice, acquired sufficient skill to help in these tasks.  They did not drive themselves now, but the hours being filled with useful and interesting labor, they were content to wait.

For three or four days, while the snow still fell, they ate cold food, but when the clouds at last floated away, and the air was free from the flakes, they went outside and by great effort—­the snow being four or five feet deep—­cleared a small space near the entrance, where they cooked a good dinner from their stores and enjoyed it extravagantly.  Meanwhile the days passed.  Robert was impatient at times, but never a long while.  If the mental weariness of waiting came to him he plunged at once into the tasks of the day.