It was agreed that Tayoga should go, and in about two hours he
returned with grave news. The warriors were out again, hunting in the
snow, and although unconscious of it themselves they formed an almost
complete ring about the three, a ring which they must undertake to
break through now in full daylight, and with the snow ready to leave a
broad trail of all who passed.

"They would be sure to see our path," said Tayoga. "Even the short
trail I made when I went forth exposes us to danger, and we must trust
to luck that they will not see it. There is nothing for us to do, but
to remain hidden here, until the next night comes. It is quite certain
that the face of Areskoui is still turned from us. What have we done
that is displeasing to the Sun God?"

"I can't recall anything," said Robert.

"Perhaps it is not what we have done but what we have failed to do,
though whatever it is Areskoui has willed that we lie close another
day."

"And starve," said Robert ruefully.

"And starve," repeated the Onondaga.

The three crouched once more under the lee of the cliff, but toward
noon they built their wooden wall another foot higher, driven to the
work by the threatening aspect of the sky, which turned to a somber
brown. The wind sprang up again, and it had an edge of damp.

"Soon it will rain," said Tayoga, "and it will be a bitter cold rain.