her island,
but he gave up the idea, owing to the smallness of the boat, and his own
inexperience as a sailor. He was at least safe and comfortable where he
was, and a voyage of discovery or escape meant almost certain death.

But he used the dinghy in calm weather for bringing back some of the
stores that he had left on the other side of the island. The lighter
articles he brought by land. There was not room for all of them in the
house, but he built a shed under which he placed those not of a
perishable nature, and covered them over with the tarpaulin and sails.
He still had the feeling that he must not lose or waste anything,
because he knew that in the back of his head lay an apprehension lest
his time on the island should be long, very long.

He kept in iron health. His life in the wilderness had taught him how to
take care of himself, and, with an abundant and varied diet and plenty
of exercise, he never knew a touch of illness. He did not forget to be
grateful for it. A long association with Tayoga had taught him to
remember these things. It might be true that he was being guarded by
good spirits. The white man's religion and the red man's differed only
in name. His God and Tayoga's Manitou were the same, and the spirits of
the Onondaga were the same as his angels of divine power and mercy.

Often in the moonlight he looked up at the great star upon which Tayoga
said that Tododaho dwelled, that wise Onondaga chieftain who had gone
away to the skies four hundred years before. Once or twice he thought he
could see the face of Tododaho with the wise snakes, coil on coil in his
hair, but, without his full faith, it was not given to him to have the
full vision of Tayoga. He found comfort, however, in the effort. It gave
new strength to the spirit, and, situated as he was, it was his soul,
not his body, that needed fortifying.

He decided that Christmas was near at hand, and he decided to celebrate
it. With the count of time lost it was impossible for him to know the
exact day, but he fixed upon one in his mind, and resolved to use it
whether right or wrong in date. The mere fact that he celebrated it
would make it right in spirit. It might be the 20th or the 30th of
December, but if he chose to call it the 25th, the 25th it would be.
Endowed so liberally with fancy and with such a power of projecting the
mind, it was easy for him to make believe, to turn imagination into
reality. And this power was heightened by hi