red man, for a sign, but none came, and infected strongly as he was
with the Indian philosophy and religion, he felt that it must be due
to some lack of virtue in himself. He searched his memory, but he
could not discover in what particular he had erred, and he was forced
to continue his anxious waiting, until the stars should choose to
fight for him.

Tayoga too was troubled, his mind in its own way being as active as
Robert's. He knew all the spirits of earth, air and water were abroad,
but he hoped at least one of them would look upon him with favor, and
give him a warning. He sought Tododaho's star in the heavens, but the
clouds were too thick, and, eye failing, he relied upon his ear for
the signal which he and his young white comrade sought so earnestly.

If Tayoga had erred either in omission or commission then the spirits
that hovered about him forgave him, as when the night was thickest
they gave the sign. It was but the faint fall of a foot, and, at
first, he thought a bear or a deer had made it, but at the fourth or
fifth fall he knew that it was a human footstep and he whispered to
his comrades:

"Some one comes!"

As if by preconcerted signal the three arose and crept silently into
the dense underbrush, where they crouched, their rifles thrust
forward.

"It is but one man and he walks directly toward us," whispered Tayoga.

"I hear him now," said Robert. "He is wearing moccasins, as his step