“Thanks, Tayoga, I appreciate the compliment, and, as I said before, your modesty also appeals to me.”

“You waste words, Dagaeoga, but you have always been a great talker.  Now, watch the birds.”

Tayoga laughed softly.  The Indian now and then, in his highest estate, used stately forms of rhetoric, and it pleased the young Onondaga, who had been so long in the white man’s school, to employ sometimes the most orotund English.  It enabled him to develop his vein of irony, with which he did not spare Robert, just as Robert did not spare him.

“I will watch the birds,” said young Lennox.  “They’re intelligent, reasoning beings, and I’ll lay a wager that while they’re singing away there they’re not singing any songs that make fun of their friends.”

“Of that I’m not sure, Dagaeoga.  Look at the bird with the red crest, perched on the topmost tip of the tall, green bush directly in front of us.  I can distinguish his song from those of the others, and it seems that the note contains something saucy and ironic.”

“I see him, Tayoga.  He is an impudent little rascal, but I should call him a most sprightly and attractive bird, nevertheless.  Observe how his head is turned on one side.  If we were only near enough to see his eyes I’d lay another wager that he is winking.”

“But his head is not on one side any longer, Dagaeoga.  He has straightened up.  If you watch one object a long time you will see it much more clearly, and so I am able to observe his actions even at this distance.  He has ceased to sing.  His position is that of a soldier at attention.  He is suspicious and watchful.”

“You’re right, Tayoga.  I can see, too, that the bird’s senses are on the alert against something foreign in the forest.  All the other birds, imitating the one who seems to be their leader, have ceased singing also.”

“And the leader is unfolding his wings.”

“So I see.  He is about to fly away.  There he goes like a flash of red flame!”

“And there go all the rest, too.  It is enough.  Tandakora, De Courcelles and the savages have come.”

Robert and Tayoga crouched a little lower and stared over the fallen log.  Presently the Onondaga touched the white youth on the arm.  Robert, following his gaze, made out the figure of a warrior creeping slowly through a dense thicket toward the creek.

“It is likely that Great Bear sees him, too,” said Tayoga, “but we will not fire.  He will not come nearer than fifty yards, because good cover is lacking.”

“I understand that the contest is to be one of patience.  So they can loose their bullets first.  I see the bushes moving in several places now, Tayoga.”

“It is probable that their entire force has come up.  They may wait at least an hour before they will try a ford.”

“Like as not.  Suppose we eat a little venison, Tayoga, and strengthen ourselves for the ordeal.”