ed a complete circle about the fort, and while the
young Quaker felt safe inside the palisade, he saw no chance for a
friend outside. Robert joined him presently but, respecting his
feelings, the Philadelphian said nothing about Tayoga.

The winter, it seemed, was exerting itself to show how fine a day it
could produce. It was cold but dazzling. A gorgeous sun, all red and
gold, was rising, and the light was so vivid and intense that they
could see far in the forest, bare of leaf. Robert clearly discerned
both De Courcelles and Jumonville about six hundred yards away,
standing by one of the fires. Then he saw the gigantic figure of
Tandakora, as the Ojibway joined them. Despite the cold, Tandakora
wore little but the breechcloth, and his mighty chest and shoulders
were painted with many hideous devices. In the distance and in the
glow of the flames his size was exaggerated until he looked like one
of the giants of ancient mythology.

Robert was quite sure the siege would never be raised if the voice of
the Ojibway prevailed in the allied French and Indian councils.
Tandakora had been wounded twice, once by the hunter and once by the
Onondaga, and a mind already inflamed against the Americans and the
Hodenosaunee cherished a bitter personal hate. Robert knew that
Willet, Tayoga and he must be eternally on guard against his murderous
attacks.

The savages built their fires higher, as if in defiance and
triumph. They could defend themselves against cold, because the forest
furnished unending fuel, but rain or hail, sleet or snow would bring
severe hardship. The day, however, favored them to the utmost. It
had seemed at dawn that it could not be more brilliant, but as the
morning advanced the world fairly glowed with color. The sky was
golden save in the east, where it burned in red, and the trunks and
black boughs of the forest, to the last and least little twig, were
touched with it until they too were clothed in a luminous glow.

The besiegers seemed lazy, but Robert knew that the watch upon the
fort and its approaches was never neglected for an instant. A fox
could not steal through their lines, unseen, and yet he never doubted.
Tayoga would come, and moreover he would come at the time
appointed. Toward the middle of the morning the Indians shot some
arrows that fell inside the palisade, and uttered a shout or two of
defiance, but nobody was hurt, and nobody was stirred to action. The
demonstration passed unanswere