“Like as not,” said Robert, “and he’d have been a good prize, but he’s taken the alarm, and he’s safe.  We’ll have to look for something else.  Just there on the right you can see an opening among the leaves, Dave, and that’s our place for landing.”

Willet sent the canoe through the open water between the tall reeds, then slowed it down with his paddle, and the prow touched the bank gently.

The three stepped out and drew the canoe with great care upon the shore, in order that it might dry.  The bank at that point was not steep and the presence of the deer at the water’s edge farther up indicated a slope yet easier there.

“Appears to be a likely place for game,” said Willet.  “While the stag has scented us and gone, there must be more deer in the woods.  Maybe they’re full of ’em, since this is doubtful ground and warriors and white men too are scarce.”

“But red scouts from the north may be abroad,” said Robert, “and it would be unwise to use our rifles.  We don’t want a brush with Hurons or Tionontati.”

“The Tionontati went into the west some years ago,” said Tayoga, “and but few of their warriors are left with their kinsmen, the Hurons.”

“But those few would be too many, should they chance to be near.  We must not use our rifles.  Instead we must resort to your bow and arrows, Tayoga.”

“Perhaps waano (the bow) will serve us,” said the young chief, with his confident smile.

“That being the case, then,” said Willet, “I’ll stay here and mind the canoe, while the pair of you boys go and find the deer.  You’re younger than I am, an’ I’m willing for you to do the work.”

The white teeth of Tayoga flashed into a deeper smile.

“Does our friend, the Great Bear, who calls himself Willet, grow old?” he asked.

“Not by a long sight, Tayoga,” replied Willet with energy.  “I’m no braggart, I hope, but you Iroquois don’t call me Great Bear for nothing.  My muscles are as hard as ever, and my wind’s as good.  I can lift more and carry more upon my shoulders than any other man in all this wilderness.”

“I but jested with the Great Bear,” said Tayoga, smiling.  “Did I not see last winter how quick he could be when I was about to be cut to pieces under the sharp hoofs of the wounded and enraged moose, and he darted in and slew the animal with his long knife?”

“Don’t speak of it, Tayoga.  That was just a little matter between friends.  You’d do as much for me if the chance came.”

“But you’ve done it already, Great Bear.”

Willet said something more in deprecation, and picking up the canoe, put it in a better place.  Its weight was nothing to him, and Robert noticed with admiration the play of the great arms and shoulders.  Seen now upon the land and standing at his full height Willet was a giant, proportioned perfectly, a titanic figure fitted by nature to cope with the hardships and dangers of the wilderness.