But they neither heard nor saw a hostile presence.  In truth, they saw nothing that betokened a siege, save the dim light flickering several hundred yards ahead of them, and they resumed their advance, bent so low that they could drop flat at the first menace.  Their eyes looked continually for a sentinel, but they saw none.

“Don’t you think the wind is rising a bit, Tayoga?” whispered the hunter.

“Yes,” replied the Onondaga.

“And it feels damper to the face?”

“Yes, Great Bear.”

“And it doesn’t mean rain, because the air’s too cold, but it does mean snow, for which the air is just right, and I think it’s coming, as the clouds grow thicker and thicker all the time.”

“Which proves that we are favored.  Tododaho from his great and shining star, that we cannot see tonight, looks down upon us and will help us, since we have tried to do the things that are right.  We wish the snow to come, because we wish a veil about us, while we confound our enemies, and Tododaho will send it.”

He spoke devoutly and Robert admired and respected his faith, the center of which was Manitou, and Manitou in the mind of the Christian boy was the same as God.  He also shared the faith of Tayoga that Tododaho would wrap the snow like a white robe about them to hide them from their enemies.  Meanwhile the three crept slowly toward the fire, and Robert felt something damp brush his face.  It was the first flake of snow, and Tododaho, on his shining star, was keeping his unspoken promise.

Tayoga looked up toward the point in the heavens where the great chief’s star shone on clear nights, and, even in the dark, Robert saw the spiritual exaltation on his face.  The Onondaga never doubted for an instant.  The mighty chief who had gone away four centuries ago had answered the prayer made to him by one of his loyal children, and was sending the snow that it might be a veil before them while they destroyed the camp of their enemies.  The soul of Tayoga leaped up.  They had received a sign.  They were in the care of Tododaho and they could not fail.

Another flake fell on Robert’s face and a third followed, and then they came down in a white and gentle stream that soon covered him, Willet and Tayoga and hung like a curtain before them.  He looked back toward the fort, but the veil there also hung between and he could not see it.  Then he looked again, and the dim fire had disappeared in the white mist.

“Will it keep their huts and lodges from burning?” he whispered to the hunter.

Willet shook his head.

“If we get a fire started well,” he said, “the snow will seem to feed it rather than put it out.  It’s going to help us in more ways than one, too.  I’d expected that we’d have to use flint and steel to touch off our blaze, but as they’re likely to leave their own fire and seek shelter, maybe we can get a torch there.  Now, you two boys keep close to me and we’ll approach that fire, or the place where it was.”