s--fired a few shots but
they did no damage. Only one entered the hollow, and it buried itself
harmlessly in their wooden barrier. They suffered from nothing except
the soreness and stiffness that came from lying almost flat and so long
in one position. The afternoon, cloudless and brilliant, waned, and the
air in the recess grew warm and heavy. Had it not been for the necessity
of keeping guard Robert could have gone to sleep again. The flood in the
river passed its zenith and was now sinking visibly. No more trees or
bushes came floating on the water. Willet showed disappointment over the
failure of the besiegers to make any decided movement.

"I was telling you, Robert, a while ago," he said, "that Indians mostly
have a lot of time, but I'm afraid the band that's cornered us here has
got too much. They may send out a warrior or two to hunt, and the others
may sit at a distance and wait a week for us to come out. At least it
looks that way to a 'possum up a tree. What do you think of it, Tayoga?"

"The Great Bear is right," replied the Onondaga. "He is always right
when he is not wrong."

"Come now, Tayoga, are you making game of me?"

"Not so, my brother, because the Great Bear is nearly always right and
very seldom wrong. It is given only to Manitou never to be wrong."

"That's better, Tayoga. If I can keep up a high average of accuracy I'm
satisfied."

Tayoga's English was always precise and a trifle bookish, like that of a
man speaking a language he has learned in a school, which in truth was
the case with the Onondaga. Like the celebrated Thayendanegea, the
Mohawk, otherwise known as Joseph Brant, he had been sent to a white
school and he had learned the English of the grammarian. Willet too
spoke in a manner much superior to that of the usual scout and hunter.

"If the Indians post lines out of range and merely maintain a watch what
will we do?" asked Robert. "I, for one, don't want to stay here
indefinitely."

"Nor do any of us," replied Willet. "We ought to be moving. A long delay
here won't help us. We've got to think of something."

The two, actuated by the same impulse, looked at Tayoga. He was very
thoughtful and presently glanced up at the heavens.

"What does the Great Bear think of the sky?" he asked.

"I think it's a fine sky, Tayoga," Willet replied with a humorous
inflection. "But I've always admired it, whether it's blue or gray or
just black, spangled with stars."

Tayoga smiled.

"