. His figure seemed to shoot up in the air on
springs, and, with a glittering tomahawk, he slew and scalped an imaginary
foe over and over again, and every time the blade struck in the air he let
forth a shout that would have done credit to old Stentor himself. He ranged
up and down the beach, and presently, when he was close to Robert, he grew
more violent than ever, as if he were worked by some powerful mechanism
that would not let him rest. He had all the appearance of one who had gone
quite mad, and as he bounded near them, his tomahawk circling about his
head, the French guards shrank back, awed, and, at the same time, not
wishing to have any conflict with their red allies, who must be handled
with the greatest care.

The man paused a moment before the young prisoner, whirled his tomahawk
about his head and uttered a ferocious shout. Robert looked straight into
the burning eyes, started violently and then became outwardly calm, though
every nerve and muscle in him was keyed to the utmost tension. "To the
lake!" exclaimed the Indian under his breath and then he danced toward the
water.

Robert did not know at first what the words meant, and he waited in
indecision, but he saw that the care of the guards, owing to the confusion,
the fact that the battle was over, and the rejoicing for victory, was
relaxed. It would seem, too, that escape at such a time and place was
impossible, and that circumstance increased their inattention.

The youth watched the dancing warrior, who was now moving toward the water,
over which the darkness of night had spread. But the lake was groaning with
a wind from the north, and several canoes near the beach were bobbing up
and down. The dancer paused a moment at the very edge of the water, and
looked back at Robert. Then he advanced into the waves themselves.

All the young prisoner's indecision departed in a flash. The signal was
complete and he understood. He sprang violently against the French soldier
who stood nearest him and knocked him to the ground. Then with three or
four bounds he was at the water's edge, leaping into the canoe, just as
Tayoga settled himself into place there, and, seizing a paddle, pushed away
with powerful shoves.

Robert nearly upset the canoe, but the Onondaga quickly made it regain its
balance, and then they were out on the lake under the kindly veil of the
night. The fugitive said nothing, he knew it was no time to speak, because
Tayoga's powerful back wa