"There is no signal," whispered Tayoga at last. "They do not even
imitate the cry of bird or beast, and it proves one thing, Great Bear."

"So it does, Tayoga."

"You know as well as I do, Great Bear, that they make no sound because
they have set the trap, and they do not wish to alarm the game which
they expect to walk into it."

"Even so, Tayoga. Our minds travel in the same channel."

"But the game is suspicious, nevertheless," continued Tayoga in his
precise school English, "and the trap will not fall."

"No, Tayoga, it won't fall, because the game won't walk into it."

"Tandakora will suffer great disappointment. He is a mighty hunter and
he has hunted mighty game, but the game that he hunts now is more wary
than the stag or the bear, and has greater power to strike back than
either."

"Well spoken, Tayoga."

The hunter and the Onondaga looked at each other in the dark and
laughed. Their spirits were as wild as the wilderness, and they were
enjoying the prospect of the Ojibway's empty trap. Robert laughed with
them. Already in his eager mind success was achieved and the crossing
was made. After a while he saw dim silver through the trees, and he knew
they had come to the river. Then the three sank down and approached inch