a wonderful volume of song. Were any other coming the bird would cease
his melody and fly away, but Tayoga felt that this tiny feathered
being was his ally and would not leave because of him. The song had
wonderful power, too, soothing his senses and casting a pleasing
spell. His imaginative mind, infused with the religion and beliefs of
his ancestors, filled the forest with friendly spirits. Unseen, they
hovered in the air and watched over him, and the trees, alive, bent
protecting boughs toward him. He saw, too, the very spot in the
heavens where the great shining star on which Tododaho lived came out
at night and glittered.

He remembered the time when he had gone forth in the dusk to meet
Tandakora and his friends, and how Tododaho had looked down on him
with approval. He had found favor in the sight of the great league's
founder, and the spirit that dwelt on the shining star still watched
over him. The Ojibway, whom he hated and who hated him in yet greater
measure, might be somewhere in the forest, but if he came near, the
feathered sentinel among the leaves over his head would give warning.

Tayoga sat nearly half an hour listening to the song of the bird. He
had no object in remaining there, his errand bade him move on, but
there was no hurry and he was content merely to breathe and to feel
the glory and splendor of the forest about him. He knew now that the
Indian nature had never been taken out of him by the schools. He loved
the wilderness, the trees, the lakes, the streams and all their
magnificent disorder, and war itself did not greatly trouble him,
since the legends of the tribes made it the natural state of man. He
knew well that he was in Tododaho's keeping, and, if by chance, the
great chief should turn against him it would be for some grave fault,
and he would deserve his punishment.