Robert and Tayoga slept on.  The morning was far gone, but they still rambled happily in the land of dreams, and showed no signs of a wish to return to earth.  Willet thought it better that they should sleep on, because youthful bodies demanded it, and because the delay which would be hard for Robert especially would thus pass more easily.  He was willing for them to stay longer in the far, happy land that they were visiting.

The sun slowly climbed the eastern arch of the heavens.  The day lost none of its intense, vivid quality.  The waters of the lake glowed in wonderful changing colors, now gold, now silver, and then purple or blue.  Willet even in those hours of anxiety did not forget to steep his soul in the beauty of Lake George.  His life was cast amid great and continuous dangers, and he had no family that he could call his own.  Yet he had those whom he loved, and if he were to choose over again the land in which to live he would choose this very majestic land in which he now sat.  As human life went, the great hunter was happy.

The sound of a shot, and then of a second, came from the cliff above.  He heard no cry following them, no note of the war whoop, and, thinking it over, he concluded that the shots were fired by Indians hunting.  Since the war, game about the lake had increased greatly, and the warriors, whether attached to the French army or roving at their own will, relied chiefly upon the forest for food.  But the reports were significant.  The Indian ring about them was not broken, and he measured their own supplies of venison and hominy.

A little after noon Tayoga awoke, and he awoke in the Indian fashion, without the noise of incautious movements or sudden words, but stepping at once from complete sleep to complete consciousness.  Every faculty in him was alive.

“I have slept long, Great Bear, and it is late,” he said.

“But not too late, Tayoga.  There’s nothing for us to do.”

“Then the warriors are still above!”

“I heard two shots a little while ago.  I think they came from hunters.”

“It is almost certainly so, Great Bear, since there is nothing in this region for them to shoot at save ourselves, and no bullets have landed near us.”

“Yours has been a peaceful sleep.  Robert too is now coming out of his great slumber.”

The white lad stirred and murmured a little as he awoke.  His reentry into the world of fact was not quite as frictionless as that of his Indian comrade.

“Do not fall down the cliff while you stretch yourself, Dagaeoga,” said the Onondaga.

“I won’t, Tayoga.  I’ve no wish to reach the lake in such fashion.  I see by the sun that it’s late.  What happened while I slept?”

“Two great attacks by Tandakora and his men were beaten off by the Great Bear and myself.  As we felt ourselves a match for them we did not consider it necessary to awaken you.”

“But of course if you had been pushed a bit harder you would have called upon me.  I’m glad you’ve concluded to use me for tipping the scales of a doubtful combat.  To enter at the most strenuous moment is what I’m fitted for best.”