With eyes shut and brain rested, Tayoga nevertheless knew all that was going on near him.  That eardrum of infinite delicacy told him that a woodpecker was tapping on a tree, well toward the north; that a little gray bird almost as far to the south was singing with great vigor and sweetness; that a rabbit was hopping about in the undergrowth, curious and yet fearful; that an eagle with a faint whirr of wings had alighted on a bough, and was looking at the three; that the eagle thinking they might be dangerous had unfolded his wings again and was flying away; that a deer passing to the west had caught a whiff of them on the wind and was running with all speed in the other direction; that a lynx had climbed a tree, and, after staring at them, had climbed down again, and had fled, his coward heart filled with terror.

Thus Tayoga, with his ears, watched his world.  He too, his eyelids lowered, felt a peace that was soothing and almost dreamy, but, though his body relaxed, those wonderfully sensitive drums of his ears caught and registered everything.  The record showed that for nearly two hours the life of the wilderness went on as usual, the ordinary work and play of animal and bird, and then the drums told him that man was coming.  A footstep was registered very clearly, and then another and another, but Tayoga did not open his eyes.  He knew who was coming as well as if he had seen him.  The drums of his ears made signals that his mind recognized at once.  He had long known the faint sound of those footsteps.  Willet was coming back.

Tayoga, through the faculty of hearing, was aware of much more than the mere fact that the hunter was returning.  He knew that Willet had found nothing, that the pursuit was still far away and that they were in no immediate danger.  He knew it by his easy, regular walk, free from either haste or lagging delay.  He knew it by the straight, direct line he took for the three young men, devoid of any stops or turnings aside to watch and listen.  Willet’s course was without care.

Tayoga opened his eyes, and lazily regarded the giant figure of his friend now in full view.  Robert and Grosvenor slept on.  “I am glad,” said the Onondaga.

It was significant of the way in which they understood each other and the way they could read the signs of the forest that they could talk almost without words.

“So am I,” said the hunter, “but I had hoped for it.”

“Since it is so, we need not awaken them just yet.”

“No, let them sleep another hour.”

Tayoga meant that he was glad the enemy had not approached and Willet replied that he had hoped for such good luck.  No further explanation was needed.

“You had the heaviest part of the burden to carry, last night,” said the hunter, “so it would be wise for you to join them if you can, in the hour that’s left.  See if you can’t follow them, at once.”

“I think I can,” said Tayoga.  “At least I will try.”