the life of the wilderness went on as usual, the ordinary work and
play of animal and bird, and then the drums told him that man was
coming. A footstep was registered very clearly, and then another and
another, but Tayoga did not open his eyes. He knew who was coming as
well as if he had seen him. The drums of his ears made signals that
his mind recognized at once. He had long known the faint sound of
those footsteps. Willet was coming back.

Tayoga, through the faculty of hearing, was aware of much more than
the mere fact that the hunter was returning. He knew that Willet had
found nothing, that the pursuit was still far away and that they were
in no immediate danger. He knew it by his easy, regular walk, free
from either haste or lagging delay. He knew it by the straight, direct
line he took for the three young men, devoid of any stops or turnings
aside to watch and listen. Willet's course was without care.

Tayoga opened his eyes, and lazily regarded the giant figure of his
friend now in full view. Robert and Grosvenor slept on. "I am glad,"
said the Onondaga.

It was significant of the way in which they understood each other and
the way they could read the signs of the forest that they could talk
almost without words.

"So am I," said the hunter, "but I had hoped for it."

"Since it is so, we need not awaken them just yet."

"No, let them sleep another hour."