“Our aim at this moment, Dagaeoga, is the middle of the lake, because the sons of Onontio and the warriors of Tandakora are all along the beach, and would be waiting for us with rifle and tomahawk should we seek to land.  This is but a small boat in which we sit and it could not resist the waves of a great storm, but at present it is far safer for us than any land near by.”

“Of course you’re right, Tayoga, you always are, but we’re in the thick of the darkness now, so you rest awhile and let me do the paddling alone.”

“It is a good thought, Dagaeoga, but keep straight in the direction we are going.  See that you do not paddle unconsciously in a curve.  We shall certainly be pursued, and although our foes cannot see us well in the dark, some out of their number are likely to blunder upon us.  If it comes to a battle you will notice that I have an extra rifle and pistol for you lying in the bottom of the canoe, and that I am something more than a supple dancer and leaper.”

“You not only think of everything, Tayoga, but you also do it, which is better.  I shall take care to keep dead ahead.”

Robert in his turn bent forward and plied the paddle.  He was not only fresh, but the wonderful thrill of escape gave him a strength far beyond the normal, and the great canoe fairly danced over the waters toward the dusky deeps of the lake, while the Onondaga crouched at the other end of the canoe, rifle in hand, intently watching the heavy pall of dusk behind them.

Their situation was still dangerous in the extreme, but the soul of Tayoga swelled with triumph.  Tandakora, the Ojibway, had rejoiced because he had expected a great taking of scalps, but the purer spirit of the Onondaga soared into the heights because he had saved his comrade of a thousand dangers.  He still saw faintly through the darkness the campfires of the victorious French and Indian army, and he heard the swish of paddles, but he did not yet discern any pursuing canoe.  He detached his eyes for a moment from the bank of dusk in front of him, and looked up at the skies.  The clouds and vapors kept him from seeing the great star upon which his patron saint, Tododaho, sat, but he knew that he was there, and that he was watching over him.  He could not have achieved so much in the face of uttermost peril and then fail in the lesser danger.

The canoe glided swiftly on toward the wider reaches of the lake, and the Onondaga never relaxed his watchfulness, for an instant.  He was poised in the canoe, every nerve and muscle ready to leap in a second into activity, while his ears were strained for the sounds of paddles or oars.  Now he relied, as often before, more upon hearing than sight.  Presently a sound came, and it was that of oars.  A boat parted the wall of dusk and he saw that it contained both French and Indians, eight in all, the warriors uttering a shout as they beheld the fugitive canoe.

“Keep steadily on, Dagaeoga,” said the Onondaga.  “I have my long barreled rifle, and it will carry much farther than those of the foe.  In another minute it will tell them they had best stop, and if they will not obey its voice then I will repeat the command with your rifle.”