But the tall youth was keenly apprehensive.  The signals indicated that the pursuing force had spread out, and it might enclose him in a fatal circle.  His eager temperament, always sensitive to impressions, was kindled into fire, and his imagination painted the whole forest scene in the most vivid colors.  A thought at first, it now became a conviction with him that Tandakora led the pursuit.  The red leader had come upon his trail in some way, and, venomous from so many failures, would follow now for days in an effort to take him.  He saw the huge Ojibway again with all the intensity of reality, his malignant face, his mighty body, naked to the waist and painted in hideous designs.  He saw too the warriors who were with him, many of them, and they were fully as eager and fierce as their chief.

But his imagination which was so vital a part of him did not paint evil and danger alone; it drew the good in colors no less deep and glowing.  It saw himself refreshed, stronger of body and keener of mind than ever, escaping every wile and snare laid for his ruin.  It saw him making a victorious flight through the forest, his arrival at the shining lake, and his reunion with Willet and Tayoga, those faithful friends of many a peril.

He knew that if he waited long enough he would hear the Indian call once more, as the bands must talk to one another if they carried out a concerted pursuit, and he decided that when it came he would go.  It would be his signal too.  The only trouble lay in the fact that they might be too near when the cry was sent.  Yet he must take the risk, and there was his sentinel bird still pluming itself in brilliant colors on its waving bough.

The bird sang anew, pouring forth a brilliant tune, and Robert from his covert smiled up at it again.  It had a fine spirit, a gay spirit like his own and now it would surely warn him if danger crept too close.  While the thought was fresh in his mind the third signal came, and now it was so clear and distinct that it indicated a rapid approach.  But he was still unable to choose a way for his flight and he lingered for a sign from the bird.  If the warriors were stealing through the bushes it would fly directly from them.  At least he believed so, and fancy had so much power over him, especially in such a situation that belief became conviction.

The bird stopped singing suddenly, but kept his perch on the waving bough.  Robert always insisted that it looked straight at him before it uttered two or three sharp notes, and then, rising in the air, hovered for a few minutes above the bough.  It was obvious to him that his call had come.  Steeped in Indian lore he had seen earth and air work miracles, and it was not less wonderful that a living creature should perform one now, and in his behalf.

For a breathless instant or two he forgot the warriors and watched the bird, a flash of blue flame against the green veil of the forest.  It was perched there in order to be sure that he saw, and then it would show the way!  With every pulse beating hard he stood up silently, his eyes still on the blue flash, confident that a new miracle was at hand.