time," he said. "You have happy thoughts and you put 'em into words. If
I didn't know that you had a lot of deeds, too, to your credit, I'd call
you boasters, but knowing it, I don't. Go ahead and spout language,
because you're only lads and I can see that you enjoy it."

"I'm going to sleep now," said Tayoga, "but Dagaeoga can keep on talking
and be happy, because he will talk to himself long after we have gone to
the land of dreams."

"If I do talk to myself," said Robert, "it's because I like to talk to
a bright fellow, and I like to have a bright fellow talk to me. Sleep as
soundly as you please, you two, because while you're sleeping I can
carry on an intellectual conversation."

The hunter laughed again.

"It's no use, Tayoga," he said. "You can't put him down. The fifty wise
old sachems in the vale of Onondaga proclaimed him a great orator, and
great orators must always have their way."

"It is so," said the Onondaga. "The voice of Dagaeoga is like a river.
It flows on forever, and like the murmur of the stream it will soothe me
to deeper slumbers. Now I sleep."

"And so do I," said the hunter.

It seemed marvelous that such formal announcements should be followed by
fact, but within three minutes both went to that pleasant land of dreams
of which they had been talking so lightly. Their breathing was long and
regular and, beyond a doubt, they had put absolute faith in their