“He went back farther into the woods, turning away from the lake,” replied Tayoga, “and he sat down again on another fallen log.  Black Rifle was hungry, and he ate.  Here is the small bone of a deer, picked quite clean, lying on the ground by the log.  Black Rifle was a fortunate man.  He had bread, too.  See, here is a crumb in this crack in the log too deep down for any bird to reach with his bill.  Black Rifle sat here quite a long time.  He was thinking hard.  He did not need so much time for resting.  He remained sitting on the log while he was trying to decide what he would do.  It is likely that Black Rifle thought a great force was behind him, and he turned back to see.  Had he kept straight on toward the south, as he was going at first, he would not have needed so much time for thinking over his plans.  Ah, he has turned!  Lo! his trail goes almost directly back on his own course.  It will lead to the top of the hillock there, because he wants to see far, and I think that after seeing he will turn again, and follow his original course.”

“Why do you think that?” asked Grosvenor.

“Because, O Red Coat, it is likely that Black Rifle knew from the first which way he wanted to go and went that way.  He has merely turned back, like a wise general, to scout a little, and see that no danger comes from the rear.  Yes, he stood here on the hillock from which we can get a good view over the country, and walked to every side of the crest to find where the best view could be obtained.  That, Red Coat, is the simplest of all things.  Behold the traces of his moccasins as he walked from side to side.  Nothing else could have made Black Rifle move about so much in the space of a few square yards.  Now he leaves the hillock and goes down its side toward a low valley in which runs a brook.  Black Rifle is thirsty and will drink deep.”

“That you can’t possibly know, Tayoga.”

“But I do know it, Red Coat.”

“You don’t even know a brook is near.”

“I know it, because I have seen it.  My eyes are trained to the forest, and I caught the gleam of running water through the leaves to the west.  Running water, of course, means a brook.  Black Rifle’s trail now leads toward it, and I assume that he was thirsty because he had just eaten well.  We are nearly always thirsty after eating.  But we shall see whether I am right.  Here is the brook, and there are the faint traces made by Black Rifle’s knees, when he knelt to reach the water.  He started away, but found that he was still thirsty, so he came back and drank again.  Here are his footprints about a yard from the others.  This time, he will go back toward the south, and I think it is sure that he is looking for St. Luc, who must have gone in that direction with a strong force, Tandakora having stayed behind to take us.  It is likely that Black Rifle went on, because a great British and American army is gathering below, which fact he knows well, and it is probable that Black Rifle follows St. Luc, because he will hunt the biggest game.”