“You never spoke a truer word, Tayoga,” said the hunter.  “It’s the same as saying that heaven helps those who help themselves, and we’ve got to do a lot of work for ourselves this night.  I think the Indian canoes are already on Andiatarocte looking for us.”

Robert would have felt a chill had it not been for the presence of his comrades.  The danger was unknown, mysterious, it might come from any point, and, while the foe prepared, they must wait until he disclosed himself.  Waiting was the hardest thing to do.

“I think we’d better stay just where we are for a while,” said the hunter.  “It would be foolish to use our strength, until we know what we are using it for.  It’s certain that Manitou intends to let us fend for ourselves because the night is lightening, which is a hard thing for fugitives.”

The clouds floated away toward the north, a star came out, then another, and then a cluster, the lofty shores on either side rose up clear and distinct, no longer vague black walls, the surface of the water turned to gray, but it was still swept by a heavy swell, in which the canoe rocked.  Willet finally suggested that they pull to a small island lying on their right, and anchor in the heavy foliage overhanging the water.

“If it grows much lighter they’ll be able to see us from the cliffs,” he said, “and for us now situated as we are the most important of all things is to hide.”

It was a tiny island, not more than a quarter of an acre in size, but it was covered with heavy forest, and they found refuge among the long boughs that touched the water, where they rested in silence, while more stars came out, throwing a silver radiance over the lake.  The three were silent and Robert watched the western light that lay farthest south.  It seemed to be about two miles away, and, as he looked he saw it grow, until he became convinced that it was no longer a light, but a fire.

“What is the meaning of it?” he asked, calling the attention of Willet.

The hunter looked for a while before replying.  The fire still grew and soon a light on the eastern shore began to turn into a fire, increasing in the same manner.

“I take it that they intend to illuminate the lake, at least this portion of it,” said Willet.  “They’ll have gigantic bonfires casting their light far over the water, and they think that we won’t be able to hide then.”

“Which proves that they are in great force on both shores,” said Tayoga.

“How does it prove it?” asked Robert.

The Onondaga laughed softly.

“O Dagaeoga,” he said, “you speak before you think.  You are always thinking before you speak, but perhaps it is not your fault.  Manitou gave you a tongue of gold, and it becomes a man to use that which he can use best.  It is very simple.  To drag up the fallen wood for such big fires takes many men.  Nor would all of them be employed for such work.  While some of them feed the flames others are seeking us.  We can look for their canoes soon.”