A log was rolled beneath the long boat under which the leaders stood, and, spreading their blankets over it, they sat down on it.  There was room at the end for Robert and Tayoga, too, and Robert found that his comfort increased greatly.  He was in a kind of daze, that was very soothing, and yet he saw everything that went on around him.  But he still looked mostly at the great fire which zealous hands fed and which stood up a pillar of light in the darkness and cold.  He reflected dimly that it was a beautiful fire, a magnificent, a most magnificent fire.  How the first man who saw the first fire must have rejoiced in it!

Toward morning the wind sank, and the sheets of rain grew thinner.  Once or twice thunder moaned in the southwest, and there were occasional streaks of lightning, but they were faint, and merely disclosed fleeting strips of a black lake and a black forest.

“Before the sun rises the storm will be gone,” said Tayoga.  “The miracle that Areskoui worked in our behalf is finished, and the rest must be done by our own courage and skill.  Who are we to ask more for ourselves than the Sun God has done?”

“We’ve been splendidly favored,” said Robert, “and if he does not help us with another miracle he’ll at least shine for us before long.  After such a night as this, I’ll be mighty glad to see the day, the green mountains, and the bright waters of Andiatarocte again.”

“I feel the dawn already, Dagaeoga.  The rain, as you see, has almost stopped, and the troubled wind will now be still.  The storm will pass away, and it will leave not a mark, save a fallen tree here and there.”

Tayoga’s words came true.  In a half hour both wind and rain died utterly, and they breathed an air clean and sweet, as if the world had been washed anew.  A touch of silver appeared on the eastern mountains, and then up came the dawn, crisp and cool after the storm, and the world was more splendid and beautiful than ever.  The green on slopes and ridges had been deepened and the lake was all silver in the morning light.

The islands stood up, sharp and clear, and there were the forces of St. Luc still on his island, and Rogers, through his powerful glasses, was able to make out the French leader himself walking about, while white men and Indians were lighting the fires on which they expected to cook their breakfasts.

Several boats and canoes were visible drawn upon the shore, showing that St. Luc had saved a portion of his fleet, and it appeared that he and his men did not fear another attack, or perhaps they wanted it.  Meanwhile rangers and Mohawks prepared their own breakfasts and awaited with patience the word of their leaders.  Apparently there was nothing but peace.  It was a camping party on the island and another on the mainland, and the waters of the lake danced in the sunshine, reflecting one brilliant color after another.

“Reenforcements are coming for St. Luc,” said Robert, who saw black specks on the lake to the eastward of the island.  “I think that’s a fleet of Indian canoes.”