leaped into the future, dreaming of the great things he would see, and
in which perhaps he would have a share.

Tayoga, the young Onondaga, looked at his comrade and he understood.
The same imaginative thread had been woven into the warp of which
he was made, and his nostrils and lips quivered as he drank in the
splendor of a world that appealed with such peculiar force to him, a
son of the woods.

"The spirit of Areskoui (the Sun God) is upon Dagaeoga, and he has
left us to dwell for a little while upon the seas of color heaped
against the western horizon," he said.

Willet, the hunter, smiled. The two lads were very dear to him. He
knew that they were uncommon types, raised by the gift of God far
above the normal.

"Let him rest there, Tayoga," he said, "while those brilliant banks
last, which won't be long. All things change, and the glorious hues
will soon give way to the dark."

"True, Great Bear, but if the night comes it, in turn, must yield to
the dawn. All things change, as you say, but nothing perishes. The sun
tomorrow will be the same sun that we see today. Black night will not
take a single ray from its glory."

"It's so, Tayoga, but you talk like a book or a prophet. I'm wondering
if our lives are not like the going and coming of the sun. Maybe we
pass on from one to another, forever and forever, without ending."