Willet was silent. He would not say anything to disturb the belief of
Tayoga, he was never one to attack anybody's religion, besides he was
not sure that he did not believe, himself.

"We know too," continued Tayoga devoutly, "that Tododaho, the mighty
Onondaga chief who went away to his star more than four hundred years
ago, and who sits there watching over the Hodenosaunee has intervened
more than once in our behalf. He is an arm of Manitou and acts for
him."

He looked up. The sky was hidden by the thick darkness. No ray of
silver or gray showed anywhere, but the Onondaga knew where lay the
star upon which sat his patron saint with the wise snakes, coil on
coil, in his hair. He felt that through the banks of mist and vapor
Tododaho was watching over him, and, as long as he tried to live the
right way taught to him by his fathers, the great Onondaga chieftain
would lead him through all perils, even as the bird in brilliant blue
plumage had shown Robert the path from the pursuit of Tandakora. The
sublime faith of Tayoga never wavered for an instant.

The wind rose a little, a heavy swell stirred the lake and their light
craft swayed with vigor, but the two youths were expert canoemen, none
better in all the wilderness, and it shipped no water. The hunter,
sitting with his hands on his rifle, did not stir, nor did he speak
for a long time. Willet, at that moment, shared the faith of his two
younger comrades. He was grateful too because once more they had
found Robert, for whom he had all the affection of a father. The three
reunited were far stronger than the three scattered, and he did not
believe that any force on the lakes or in the mountains could trap