he pointed it here and there. He beheld something
fierce and unconquerable in the man's attitude and manner. He even
imagined that he could see his face, and he knew that the eye was calm,
despite defeat and loss. St Luc, driven from the field, would be none
the less dangerous than if he had been victor upon it.

The whole Indian fleet formed in a half circle and the Chevalier ceased
to wave orders with his sword. Then he drew himself up, stood rigidly
erect, despite his unstable footing, faced the land, and, using the
sword once more, gave a soldier's salute to the foe. The act was so
gallant, so redolent of knightly romance that despite themselves the
rangers burst into a mighty cheer, and the Mohawks, having the Indian
heart that always honored a brave foe, uttered a long and thrilling
whoop of approval.

Robert, carried away by an impulse, sprang upon a rock and whirled his
rifle around his head in an answering salute. St. Luc evidently saw, and
evidently, too, he recognized Robert, as he lifted his sword in
rejoinder. Then the Indians, bent to their paddles, and the fleet,
hanging together, swept around the island and out of sight. But they
knew that the French and Indian force landed there, as fires soon blazed
upon its heavily-wooded crest, and they saw dusky figures passing and
repassing before the flames.

"The victory has been given to us tonight," said Tayoga gravely to
Robert, "but Manitou has not allowed us to complete it. Few triumph over
St. Luc, and, though his manner may have been gay and careless, his
heart burns to win back what he has lost."

"I take it you're right, Tayoga," said Robert. "His is a soul that will
not rest under defeat, and I fancy St. Luc on the island is a great
danger. He can get at us and we can't get at him."

"It is true, Dagaeoga. If we strike we must strike quickly and then be
off. This, for the time being, is the enemy's country, yet I think our
leaders will not be willing to withdraw. Daganoweda, I know, will want
to push the battle and to attack on the island."

The Onondaga's surmise was correct. The triumph of the rangers and the
Mohawks, although not complete, was large, as at least one-third of St.
Luc's force was slain, and the three leaders alike were eager to make it
yet larger, having in mind that in some way they could yet reach the
French and Indian force on the island. So they built their own fires on
the slope and the Mohawks began to sing songs of triumph