no pursuit," he replied. "I cannot even see the shore, as the mists
and vapors have settled down between. In a sense we're out at sea, Tayoga."

"And Ganoatohale is large. The canoe, too, is afloat upon its bosom and is,
as you say, out at sea. We and it must meet or we are lost. Are you weary,
Dagaeoga?"

"Not yet. I can still swim for quite a while."

"Then float a little, and we can take the exact course of the wind again.
The canoe, of course, will continue to go the way the wind goes."

"Unless it's deflected by currents which do not always follow the wind."

"I do not notice any current, and to follow the wind is our only hope. The
mists and vapors will hide the canoe from us until we are very close to it"

"And you may thank Tododaho that they will hide something else also.
Unless I make a great mistake, Tayoga, I hear the swish of paddles."

"You make no mistake, Dagaeoga. I too hear paddles, ten, a dozen, or more
of them. It is the fleet of Tandakora coming back and it will soon be
passing between us and the shore. Truly we may be thankful, as you say, for
the mists and vapors which, while they hide the canoe from us, also hide us
from our enemies."

"I shall lie flat upon my back and float, and I'll blend with the water."

"It is a wise plan, Dagaeoga. So shall I. Then Tandakora himself would not
see us, even if he passed within twenty feet of us."

"He is passing now, and I can see the outlines of their boats."

The two were silent as the fish themselves, sustained by imperceptible
strokes, and Robert saw the fleet of Tandakora pass in a ghostly line. They
looked unreal, a shadow following shadows, the huge figure of the Ojibway
chief in the first boat a shadow itself. Robert's blood chilled, and it was
not from the cold of the water. He was in a mystic and unreal world, but a
world in which danger pressed in on every side. He felt like one living
back in a primeval time. The swish of the paddles was doubled and tripled
by his imagination, and the canoes seemed to be almost on him.

The questing eyes of Tandakora and his warriors swept the waters as far as
the night, surcharged with mists and vapors, would allow, but they did not
see the two human figures, so near them and almost submerged in the lake.
The sound of the swishing paddles moved southward, and the line of ghostly
canoes melted again, one by one, into the darkness.

"They're gone, Tayoga," whispered Robert in a tone of immense relief.