“They make a great noise, inflict no wounds, and do not advance,” whispered Tayoga to Robert.

“Doubtless they are surprised much at meeting our line in the forest, and think us many times more numerous than we are.”

“And we may fill their minds with illusions,” said Robert hopefully.  “They may infer from our strong resistance that reenforcements have come, that the Mohawks are here, or that Colonel Johnson himself has arrived with Colonial troops.”

“It may be that Waraiyageh will come in time,” said Tayoga.  “Ah, they are trying to pass around our right flank.”

His comment was drawn by distant shots on their right.  The reports, however, did not advance, and the two, reassured, settled back into their places.  Three or four of the best scouts and skirmishers were at the threatened point, and they created the effect of at least a dozen.  Robert knew that the illusion of a great force confronting them was growing in the Indian mind, and his heart glowed with satisfaction.  While they held the savage host the fugitive train was putting fresh miles between them and pursuit.  Suddenly he raised his own rifle and fired.  Then he uttered a low cry of disappointment.

“It was Tandakora himself,” he said.  “I couldn’t mistake his size, but it was only a glimpse, and I missed.”

“The time of the Ojibway has not come,” said Tayoga with conviction, “but it will come before this war is over.”

“The sooner the better for our people and yours, Tayoga.”

“That is so, Dagaeoga.”

They did not talk much more for a long time because the combat in the forest and the dark deepened, and the thirty were so active that there was little time for question or answer.  They crept back and forth from bush to bush and from log to log, firing whenever they saw a flitting form, and reloading with quick fingers.  Now and then Willet, or some other, would reply with a defiant shout to the yells of the warriors, and thus, while the combat of the sharpshooters surged to and fro in the dim light, many hours passed.

But the thirty held the line.  Robert knew that the illusion of at least a hundred, doubtless more, was created in the minds of the warriors, and, fighting with their proverbial caution, they would attempt no rush.  He had a sanguine belief now that they could hold the entire host until day, and then the fleeing train would be at least twenty miles farther on.  A few of the thirty had been wounded, though not badly enough to put them out of the combat, but Robert himself had not been touched.  As usual with him in moments of success or triumph his spirits flamed high, and his occasional shout of defiance rose above the others.

“In another hour,” said Tayoga, “we must retreat.”

“Why?” asked Robert.  “When we’re holding ’em so well?”

“By day they will be able to discover how few we are, and then, although they may not be able to force our front, they will surely spread out and pass around our flanks.  I do not see the Great Bear now, but I know he thinks so, too, and it will not be long before we hear from him.”