“I hear nothing, Tayoga,” said Robert.

“Perhaps not, Dagaeoga, but I hear it, which is enough.  The sound is quite faint, but it is regular like the beating of a pulse.  Now I can tell what it is.  It is the stroke of a paddle.  There is a canoe upon the lake, passing in front of us.  It is not the canoe of a friend, or it would come at once to the land.  It contains only one man.  How do I know, Red Coat?  Because the canoe is so small.  The stroke of the paddle is light and yet the canoe moves swiftly.  A canoe heavy enough to hold two men could not be moved so fast without a stroke also heavy.  How do I know it is going fast, Dagaeoga?  Do not ask such simple questions.  Because the sound of the paddle stroke moving rapidly toward the north shows it.  Doubtless some of Sharp Sword’s warriors brought with them a canoe overland, and they are now using it to spy upon us.”

“What can we do about it, Tayoga?”

“Nothing, Red Coat.  Ah, the canoe has turned and is now going back toward the south, but more slowly.  The man in it could locate our camp easily by the glow of the fires through the mist and vapors.  Perhaps he can see a dim outline of our figures.”

“And one of us may get a bullet while we stand here watching.”

“No, Red Coat, it is not at all likely.  His aim would be extremely uncertain in the darkness.  The warrior is not usually a good marksman, nor is it his purpose here to shoot.  He would rather spy upon us, without giving an alarm.  Ah, the man has now stopped his southward journey, and is veering about uncertainly!  He dips in the paddle only now and then.  That is strange.  All his actions express doubt, uncertainty and even alarm.”

“What do you think has happened, Tayoga?”

“Manitou yet has the secret in his keeping, Dagaeoga, but if we wait in patience a little it may be revealed to me.  The canoe is barely moving and the man in it watches.  Now his paddle makes a little splash as he turns slightly to the right.  It is certain that he has been alarmed.  The spy thinks he is being spied upon, and doubtless he is right.  He grows more and more uneasy.  He moves again, he moves twice in an aimless fashion.  Although we do not see him in the flesh, it is easy to tell that he is trying to pierce the darkness with his eyes, not to make out us, but to discern something very near the canoe.  His alarm grows and probably with good cause.  Ah, he has made a sudden powerful stroke, with the paddle, shooting the canoe many feet to the left, but it is too late!”

“Too late for what, Tayoga?” exclaimed Robert.

The Onondaga did not reply for a moment or two, but stood tense and strained.  His eyes, his whole attitude showed excitement, a rare thing with him.