arocte on the other, and all the country between is splendid,
every inch of it. Look! Look your fill, Tayoga! I have brought you here
that you might see, that this might be your last sight before you go to
your Tododaho on his star."

The Onondaga knew that the Ojibway was taunting him, that the torture
had begun, that Tandakora intended to contrast the magnificent world
from which he intended to send him with the black death that awaited him
so soon. But the dauntless youth appeared not to know.

"The lakes I have seen many times," he said. "They are, as you truly
call them, grand and beautiful, and they are the rightful property of
the Hodenosaunee, the great League to which my nation belongs. I shall
come to see them many more times all through my life, and when I am an
old, old man of ninety summers and winters I shall lay myself down on a
high shore of Andiatarocte, and close my eyes while Tododaho bears my
spirit away to his star."

It is possible that Tandakora's eyes expressed a fleeting admiration.
Savage and treacherous as he was, he respected courage, and the Onondaga
had not shown the slightest trace of fear. Instead, he spoke calmly of a
long life to come, as if the shadow of death were not hovering near at
that moment.

"Look again," he said. "Look around all the circle of the world as far
as your eyes can reach. It may help you a half hour from now, when you
are in the flames, to remember the cool, green forest. And I tell you,
too, Tayoga, that your white friend Lennox, the one whom you call
Dagaeoga, shall soon follow you into the other world and by the same
flaming path. When you are but ashes, which will be by the setting of
the sun, my warriors will take up his trail, and he cannot escape us."

"Dagaeoga will live long, even as I do," said Tayoga calmly. "His
summers and winters will be ninety each, even as mine. Tododaho has
whispered that to me also, and the whispers of Tododaho are never
false."

Tandakora turned back toward the valley, motioning to his captive to
descend, and Tayoga obeyed without resistance. The glen was secluded,
just suited to his purpose, which required time, and he did not wish the
Frenchman, St. Luc, to come upon him suddenly, and interfere with the
pleasure that he anticipated.

He was quite sure that the forest was empty of everything save
themselves, though he heard again and for the third time the note of the
bird, piercing and sweet, trilling among the bushes.