. He was a dangerous enemy, one
who had made up his mind to secure revenge upon the Onondaga and his
friends, but his fresh wound would keep him quiet for a while. One could
not have an arrow through his forearm and continue a hunt with great
vigor and zest.

Tayoga marked twice the places where Tandakora had stopped to rest.
There the drops of blood were clustered, indicating a pause of some
duration, and a third stop showed where he had bound up his wound. Fresh
leaves had been stripped from a bush and a tiny fragment or two
indicated that the Ojibway had torn a piece from his deerskin waistcloth
to fasten over the leaves. After that the trail was free from the ruddy
spots, but Tayoga did not follow it much farther. He was sure that
Tandakora would not return, as he had lost much blood, and for a while,
despite his huge power and strength, exertion would make him weak and
dizzy. Evidently, the bullet in his shoulder, received when they were on
their way to Quebec, had merely shaken him, but the arrow had taken a
heavier toll.

Tayoga returned to the camp of the three. All the fire had gone out, and
Willet and Robert, wrapped in their blankets, still slept peacefully.
The entire combat between the bowmen had passed without their knowledge,
and Tayoga, quietly returning the bow and quiver to their case, and
taking his rifle instead, sat down with his back against a tree, and his
weapon across his knees. He was on the whole satisfied. He had not
removed Tandakora, but he had inflicted another painful and mortifying
defeat upon him. The pride of the Indian had been touched in its most
sensitive place, and the Ojibway would burn with rage for a long time.
Tayoga's white education did not keep him from taking pleasure in the
thought.

He had no intention of going to sleep. Although Tandakora would not
return, others might come, and for the night the care of the three was
his. It had grown a little darker, but the blue of the skies was merely
deeper and more luminous. There in the east was the great shining star,
on which Tododaho, mightiest of chiefs, lived with the wise serpents
coiled in his hair. He gazed and his heart leaped. The vapors about the
star were gathering again, and for a brief moment or two they formed the
face of Tododaho, a face that smiled upon him. His soul rejoiced.

"O Tododaho," were his unspoken words. "Thou hast kept thy promise! Thou
hast watched over me in the fight with Tandakora, and thou ha