He picked up the feather and examined it carefully.

“That fell from a warrior’s scalplock,” he said, “but we don’t know to what tribe the warrior belonged.”

“But it’s likely to be a hostile trail,” said Robert.

Tayoga nodded, and then the three considered.  It was only a fragment of a trail they had seen, but it told them danger was near.  Where they were traveling strangers were enemies until they were proved to be friends, and the proof had to be of the first class, also.  They agreed finally to turn aside into the woods with the canoe, and stop until night.  Then under cover of the friendly darkness they would resume their journey on the river.

They chose the heavily wooded crest of a low hill for the place in which to wait, because they could see some distance from it and remain unseen.  They put the canoe down there and Robert and Tayoga sat beside it, while Willet went into the woods to see if any further signs of a passing band could be discovered, returning in an hour with the information that he had discovered more footprints.

“All led to the north,” he said, “and they’re well ahead of us.  There’s no reason why we can’t follow.  We’re three, used to the wilderness, armed well and able to take care of ourselves.  And I take it the night will be dark, which ought to help us.”

The Onondaga looked up at the skies, which were of a salmon color, and shook his head a little.

“What’s the matter?” asked Robert.

“The night will bring much darkness,” he replied, “but it will bring something else with it—­wind, rain.”

“You may be right, Tayoga, but we must be moving, just the same,” said Willet.

At dusk they were again afloat on the river and, all three using the paddles, they sent the canoe forward with great speed.  But it soon became apparent that Tayoga’s prediction would be justified.  Clouds trailed up from the southwest and obscured all the heavens.  A wind arose and it was heavy and damp upon their faces.  The water seemed black as ink.  Low thunder far away began to mutter.  The wilderness became uncanny and lonely.  All save forest rovers would have been appalled, and of these three one at least felt that the night was black and sinister.  Robert looked intently at the forest on either shore, rising now like solid black walls, but his eyes, unable to penetrate them, found nothing there.  Then the lightning flamed in the west, and for a moment the surface of the river was in a blaze.

“What do you think of it, Tayoga?” asked Willet, anxiety showing in his tone, “Ought we to make a landing now?”

“Not yet,” replied the Onondaga.  “The storm merely growls and threatens at present.  It will not strike for perhaps an hour.”

“But when it does strike it’s going to hit a mighty blow unless all signs fail.  I’ve seen ’em gather before, and this is going to be a king of storms!  Hear that thunder now!  It doesn’t growl any more, but goes off like the cracking of big cannon.”