“I will rest, but it is not because you think my words are long and I am exhausted, Dagaeoga.  It is because you wish to have all the time yourself for talking.  You are cunning, but you need not be so now.  I give my time to you.”

Robert laughed.  The old Tayoga with all his keenness and sense of humor was back again, and it was a sure sign that a rapid recovery had set in.

“Maybe you can go to sleep again,” he said.  “I think it was a stupor rather than sleep that you passed through last night, but now you ought to find sleep sweet, sound and healthy.”

“You speak words of truth, O great white medicine man, and it being so my mind will make my body obey your instructions.”

He turned a little on his side, away from his wounded shoulder, and either his will was very powerful or his body was willing, as he soon slept again, and now Tarenyawagon sent him no troubled and disordered dreams.  Instead his breathing was deep and regular, and when Robert felt his pulse he found it was almost normal.  The fever was gone and the bronze of Tayoga’s face assumed a healthful tint.

Then Robert took a piece of venison, and pounded it well between two stones.  He would have been glad to light a fire of dry leaves and sticks, that he might warm the meat, but he knew that it was yet too dangerous, and so strong was Tayoga’s constitution that he might take the food cold, and yet find it nutritious.

It was late in the afternoon when the Onondaga awoke, yawned in human fashion, and raised himself a little on his unwounded shoulder.

“Here is your dinner, Tayoga,” said Robert, presenting the shredded venison.  “I’m sorry it’s not better, but it’s the best the lodge affords, and I, as chief medicine man and also as first assistant medicine man and second assistant medicine man, bid you eat and find no fault.”

“I obey, O physician, wise and stern, despite your youth,” said Tayoga.  “I am hungry, which is a most excellent sign, and I will say, too, that I begin to feel like a warrior again.”

He ate as much as Robert would let him have, and then, with a great sigh of content, sank back on his bed of leaves.

“I can feel my wound healing,” he said.  “Already the clean flesh is spreading over the hurt and the million tiny strands are knitting closely together.  Some day it shall be said in the Vale of Onondaga that the wound of Tayoga healed more quickly than the wound of any other warrior of our nation.”

“Good enough as a prophecy, but for the present we’ll bathe and bind it anew.  A little good doctoring is a wonderful help to will and prediction.”

Robert once more cleansed the hurt very thoroughly, and he was surprised to find its extremely healthy condition.  It had already begun to heal, a proof of amazing vitality on the part of Tayoga, and unless the unforeseen occurred he would set a record in recovery.  Robert heaped the leaves under his head to form a pillow, and the young warrior’s eyes sparkled as he looked around at their snug abode.