became apparent that Tayoga's prediction would be justified. Clouds
trailed up from the southwest and obscured all the heavens. A wind arose
and it was heavy and damp upon their faces. The water seemed black as
ink. Low thunder far away began to mutter. The wilderness became uncanny
and lonely. All save forest rovers would have been appalled, and of
these three one at least felt that the night was black and sinister.
Robert looked intently at the forest on either shore, rising now like
solid black walls, but his eyes, unable to penetrate them, found nothing
there. Then the lightning flamed in the west, and for a moment the
surface of the river was in a blaze.

"What do you think of it, Tayoga?" asked Willet, anxiety showing in his
tone, "Ought we to make a landing now?"

"Not yet," replied the Onondaga. "The storm merely growls and threatens
at present. It will not strike for perhaps an hour."

"But when it does strike it's going to hit a mighty blow unless all
signs fail. I've seen 'em gather before, and this is going to be a king
of storms! Hear that thunder now! It doesn't growl any more, but goes
off like the cracking of big cannon."

"But it's still far in the west," persisted Tayoga, as the three bent
over their paddles.

The forest, however, was groaning with the wind, and little waves rose
on the river. Now the lightning flared again and again, so fierce and
bright that Robert, despite his control of himself, instinctively
recoiled from it as from the stroke of a saber.