hue and gloomy. But in the cave it
was cozy and warm. Furs and skins were so numerous that there was no
longer room on the floor and walls for them all, many being stored in
glossy heaps in the corners.

"Some day these will bring a good price from the Dutch traders at
Albany," said Robert, "and it may be, Tayoga, that you and I will need
the money. I've been a scout and warrior for a long time, and now
I've suddenly turned fur hunter. Well, that spirit of peace and of a
friendly feeling toward all mankind grows upon me. Why shouldn't I be
full of brotherly love when your patron saint, Tododaho, has been so
kind to us?"

He swept the cave once more with a glance of approval. It furnished
shelter, warmth, food in abundance, and with its furs even a certain
velvety richness for the eye, and Tayoga nodded assent. Meanwhile they
waited for the fierce blasts of the mountain winter.

CHAPTER VII

THE SLEEPING SENTINELS

A singular day came when it seemed to Robert that the wind alternately
blew hot and cold, at least by contrast, and the deep, leaden skies
were suffused with a peculiar mist that made him see all objects in
a distorted fashion. Everything was out of proportion. Some were
too large and some too small. Either the world was awry or his own
faculties had become discolored and disjointed. While his interest in
his daily toil decreased and his thoughts were vague and distant,
his curiosity, nevertheless, was keen and concentrated. He knew that
something unusual was going to happen and nature was preparing him for
it.

The occult quality in the air did not depart with the coming of night,
though the winds no longer alternated, the warm blasts ceasing to
blow, while the cold came steadily and with increasing fierceness. Yet
it was warm and close in the cave, and the two went outside for air,
wandering up the face of the ridge that enclosed the northern side
of their particular valley in the chain of little valleys. Upon the
summit they stood erect, and the face of Tayoga became rapt like
that of a seer. When Robert looked at him his own blood tingled. The
Onondaga shut his eyes, and he spoke not so much to Robert as to the
air itself:

"O Tododaho," he said, "when mine eyes are open I do not see you
because of the vast clouds that Manitou has heaped between, but when I
close them the inner light makes me behold you sitting upon your star
and looking down with kindness upon this, the humblest and lea