entinels had been
posted, but which, nevertheless, was so dark that a cunning form might
pass there unseen.

"There is more in this than meets the eye," muttered the partisan, and
drawing the arrows from the earth he examined them by the light of the
fire. Robert stood by, silent, but his eyes fell on fresh marks with a
knife, near the barb on each weapon, and the great pulse in his throat
leaped. The yellow flame threw out in distinct relief what the knife had
cut there, and he saw on each arrow the rude but unmistakable outline of a
bear.

The Owl might not determine the meaning of the picture, but the captive
comprehended it at once. It was the pride of Tayoga that he was of the clan
of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the
Hodenosaunee, and here upon the arrows was his totem or sign of the Bear.
It was a message and Robert knew that it was meant for him. Had ever a man
a more faithful comrade? The Onondaga was still following in the hope of
making a rescue, and he would follow as long as Robert was living. Once
more the young prisoner's hopes of escape rose to the zenith.

"Now what do these marks mean?" said the partisan, looking at the arrows
suspiciously.

"It was merely an intoxicated warrior shooting at the moon," replied
Robert, innocently, "and the cuts signify nothing."

"I'm not so sure of that. I've lived long enough among the Indians to know
they don't fire away good arrows merely for bravado, and these are planted
so close together it must be some sort of a signal. It may have been
intended for you."

Robert was silent, and the partisan did not ask him any further questions,
but, being much disturbed, sent into the forest scouts, who returned
presently, unable to find anything.

"It may or it may not have been a message," he said, speaking to Robert, in
his usual garrulous fashion, "but I still incline to the opinion that it
was, though I may never know what the message meant, but I, Charles
Langlade, have not been called the Owl for nothing. If it refers to you
then your chance of escape has not increased. I hold you merely for
tonight, but I hold you tight and fast. Tomorrow my responsibility ceases,
and you march in the middle of Montcalm's army."

Robert made no reply, but he was in wonderful spirits, and his elation
endured. His senses, in truth, were so soothed by the visible evidence that
his comrade was near that he fell asleep very soon and had no dreams. The
Fre