“The Spirit of Jest guided my hand,” he said, “and the stick struck him upon the nose.  He will run far and his wrath and fear will grow as he runs.  Then he will lie down again in some thicket, and he will not dare to come back.  Now, we will wait a little.”

“Anything more looking at us?” asked Robert after awhile.

“Yes, we have a new visitor,” replied Tayoga in a low tone.  “Speak only in a whisper and do not move, because the animal that is looking at us has no malice in its heart, and does not wish us harm.  It has come very softly and, while its eyes are larger, they are mild and have only curiosity.”

“A deer, I should say, Tayoga.”

“Yes, a deer, Lennox, a very beautiful deer.  It has been drawn by the fire, and having come as near as it dares it stands there, shivering a little, but wondering and admiring.”

“We won’t trouble it, Tayoga.  We’ll need the meat of a deer before long, but we’ll spare our guest of tonight.”

“He is staring very straight at us,” said Tayoga, “but something has stirred in the brushwood—­perhaps it’s another wolf—­and now he has gone.”

“We seem to be an attraction,” said Willet, “and so I suppose we’d better give ’em as good a look as we can.”

He cast a great quantity of the dry wood on the fire, and it blazed up gayly, throwing the red glow in a wide circle, and lighting up the pleasant glade.  The figures of the three, as they leaned in luxurious attitudes, were outlined clearly and sharply, a view they would not have allowed had not Tayoga been sure no enemy was near.

“Now let the spectators come on,” said Willet genially, “because we won’t be on display forever.  After a while we’ll get sleepy, and then it will be best to put out the fire.”

The flames leaped higher and the glowing circle widened.  Robert, leaning against a tree, with his blanket wrapped around him and the cushion of dead leaves beneath him, felt the grateful warmth upon his face, and it rejoiced body and mind alike.  Tayoga and the hunter were in a similar state of content, and they were silent for a while.  Then Robert said: 

“Who’s looking at us now, Tayoga?”

“Two creatures, Dagaeoga, that belong upon the ground, but that are not now upon it.”

“Your answer sounds like a puzzle.  If they’re not now upon the ground they’re probably in the air, but they’re not birds, because birds don’t belong on the ground.  Then they’re animals that have climbed trees.”

“Dagaeoga’s mind is becoming wondrous wise.  In time he may be a sachem among his adopted people.”

“Don’t you have sport with me, Tayoga, because bear in mind that if you do I will pay you back some day.  Have these creatures a mean, vicious look?”

“I could not claim, Dagaeoga, that they are as beautiful as the deer that came to look at us but lately.”

“Then I make so bold as to say, Tayoga, that they have tufted ear tips, spotted fur, and short tails, in brief a gentleman lynx and a lady lynx, his wife.  They are gazing at us with respect and fear as the wolf did, and also with just as much malice and hate.  They’re wondering who and what we are, and why we come into their woods, the pair of bloodthirsty rabbit slayers.”