forest, where a result of some kind must be reached soon. Yet it was
impossible to tell what plan St. Luc had in mind, and they must wait
until Tayoga came.

Young Captain Colden was in good spirits. It was his first taste of
wilderness warfare, and he knew that he had done well. The dead were
laid decently among the bushes to receive Christian burial later, if
the chance came, and the wounded, their hurts bound up, prepared to
take what part they could in a new battle. Robert crept to the edge
of the cliff, and looked toward the west, whence Tayoga had gone. He
saw only a dazzling blue sky, unflecked by anything save little white
clouds, and there was nothing to indicate whether the mission of his
young Onondaga comrade would have any success. He crept back to the
side of Willet.

"Have you any opinion, Dave, about the smoke that Tayoga saw," he
asked.

"None, Robert, just a hope. It might have been made by another French
and Indian band, most probably it was, but there is a chance, too,
that friends built the fire."

"If it's a force of any size it could hardly be English. I don't
think any troop of ours except Captain Colden's is in this region."

"We can't look for help from our own race."

Robert was silent, gazing intently into the west, whence Tayoga had
gone. He recognized the immense difficulties of their position.
Indians, if an attack or two of theirs failed, would be likely to go