place an arrow so deep in him that the Ojibway's wicked soul will have
to seek another home."

"Hear them growling and snarling in the bushes. It is over their
cannibalistic feast. Soon they will have finished and then they will
come back to us."

The deadly stalking, more hideous than that carried on by men, because
it was more unnatural, was resumed. Robert discharged a third arrow, but
the fierce yelp following told him that he had inflicted only a wound.
He glanced instinctively at the Onondaga, fearing a reproof, but Tayoga
merely said:

"If one shoots many times one must miss sometimes."

A fourth shot touched nothing, but the Onondaga had no rebuke, a fifth
shot killed a wolf, a sixth did likewise, and Robert's pride returned.
The wolves drew off, to indulge in cannibalism again, and to consult
with their leader, who carried the soul of a savage in his body.

Robert had sought in vain for a fair shot at the giant wolf. He had
caught one or two glimpses of him, but they were too fleeting for the
flight of an arrow, and, despite all reason and logic, he found himself
accepting Tayoga's theory that he was, in reality, a lost brother of
Tandakora, marshaling forward his forces, but keeping himself secure.
After the snarling and yelping over the horrible repast, another silence
followed in the bushes.

"Perhaps they've had enough and have gone away," said Robert, hazarding
the hopeful guess a second time.

"No. They will make a new attack. They care nothing for those that have
fallen. Watch well, Dagaeoga, and keep your arrows ready."

"I think I'll become a good bowman in time," said Robert lightly, to
ease his feelings, "because I'm getting a lot of practice, and it seems
that I'll have a lot more. Perhaps I need this rest, but, so far as my
feelings are concerned, I wish the wolves would come on and make a final
rush. Their silence and invisibility are pretty hard on the nerves."

He examined the bow carefully again, and put six arrows on the floor of
the cave beside him, with the quiver just beyond them. Tayoga sat
immovable, his rifle across his knees, ready in the last emergency to
use the bullet. Thus more time passed in silence and without action.

It often seemed to Robert afterward that there was something unnatural
about both time and place. The darkness came down thicker and heavier,
and to his imaginative ear it had a faint sliding sound like the
dropping of many veils. So highly charged had