n
the palisade, and melted before the eyes of Robert and Wilton. But it
was merely a herald of its fellows which, descending at first like
skirmishers, soon thickened into companies, regiments, brigades,
divisions and armies. Then all the air was filled with the flakes, and
they were so thick they could not see the forest.

"The first snow of the winter and a big one," said Wilton, "and again
I give thanks for our well furnished fort. There may be greater
fortresses in Europe, and of a certainty there are many more famous,
but there is none finer to me than this with its' stout log walls, its
strong, broad roofs, and its abundance of supplies. Once more, though,
I'm sorry for your friend, Tayoga. A runner may go fast over ice, if
he's extremely sure of foot and his moccasins are good, but I know of
no way in which he can speed like the gull in its flight through deep
snow."

"Not through the snow, but he may be on it," said Robert.

"And how on it, wise but cryptic young sir?"

"Snow shoes."

"But he took none with him and had none to take."

"Which proves nothing. The Indians often hide in the forest articles
they'll need at some far day. A canoe may be concealed in a thicket at
the creek's edge, a bow and arrows may be thrust away under a ledge,
all awaiting the coming of their owner when he needs them most."

"The chance seems too small to me, Lennox. I can't think a pair of
snow shoes will rise out of the forest just when Tayoga wants 'em,
walk up to him and say: 'Please strap us on your feet.' I make
concession freely that the Onondaga is a most wonderful fellow, but he
can't work miracles. He does not hold such complete mastery over the
wilderness that it will obey his lightest whisper. I read fairy tales
in my youth and they pleased me much, but alas! they were fairy
tales! The impossible doesn't happen!"

"Who's the great talker now? Your words were flowing then like the
trickling of water from a spout. But you're wrong, Will, about the
impossible. The impossible often happens. Great spirits like Tayoga
love the impossible. It draws them on, it arouses their energy, they
think it worth while. I've seen Tayoga more than once since he
started, as plainly as I see you, Will. Now, I shut my eyes and I
behold him once more. He's in the forest. The snow is pouring down. It
lies a foot deep on the ground, the boughs bend with it, and sometimes
they crack under it with a report like that of a rifle. The tops