“The rabbits neither see nor hear anything strange, and the strange would be to them the dangerous.  They nibble at the leaves a little, then play a little, then nibble again.”

“I trust they’ll keep up their combination of pleasure and sustenance some time, because it’s very nice to lie here, rest one’s overstrained system, and feel that one is watched over by a faithful friend, one who can do your work as well as his.  You’re not only a faithful friend, Tayoga, you’re a most useful one also.”

“Dagaeoga is lazy.  He would not have as a friend one who is lazy like himself.  He needs a comrade to take care of him.  Perhaps it is better so.  Dagaeoga is an orator; an orator has privileges, and one of his privileges is a claim to be watched over by others.  One cannot speak forever and work, too.”

Robert opened his eyes and smiled.  The friendship between him and Tayoga, begun in school days, had been tested by countless hardships and dangers, and though each made the other an object of jest, it was as firm as that of Orestes and Pylades or that of Damon and Pythias.

“What are the rabbits doing now?” asked young Lennox, who had closed his eyes again.

“They eat less and play less,” replied the Onondaga.  “Ah, their attitude is that of suspicion!  It may be that the enemy comes!  Now they run away, and the enemy surely comes!”

Robert sat up, and laid his rifle across his knee.  All appearance of laziness or relaxation disappeared instantly.  He was attentive, alert, keyed to immediate action.

“Can you see anything, Tayoga?” he whispered.

“No, but I think I hear the sound of footsteps approaching.  I am not yet sure, because the footfall, if footfall it be, is almost as light as the dropping of a feather.”

Both remained absolutely still, not moving a leaf in their covert, and presently a huge and sinister figure walked into the open.  It seemed to Robert that Tandakora was larger than ever, and that he was more evil-looking.  His face was that of the warrior who would show no mercy, and his body, save for a waistcloth, was livid with all the hideous devices of war paint.  Behind him came a Frenchman whom Robert promptly recognized as Achille Garay, and a half dozen warriors, all of whom turned questing eyes toward the earth.

“They look for a trail,” whispered Tayoga.  “It is well, Dagaeoga, that we took the precaution to walk on rocks when we came into this covert, or Tandakora, who is so eager for our blood, would find the traces.”

“Tandakora costs me great pain,” Robert whispered back.  “It’s my misfortune always to be seeing him just when I can’t shoot at him.  I’m tempted to try it, anyhow.  That’s a big, broad chest of his, and I couldn’t find a finer target.”

“No, Dagaeoga, on your life, no!  Our scalps would be the price, and some day we shall take the life of Tandakora and yet keep our own.  I know it, because Tododaho has whispered it to me in the half world that lies between waking and sleeping.”