Willet, Captain Colden would not let his men reply, restraining their
eagerness, and silence soon returned.

It was nearly noon now and a huge golden sun shone over the vast
wilderness in which two little bands of men fought, mere motes in the
limitless sea of green. Robert ate some venison, and drank a little
water from the canteen of a friendly soldier. Then his thoughts turned
again to Tayoga. The Onondaga was a peerless runner, he had been gone
long now, and what would he find at the base of the smoke? If it had
been the fire of an enemy then he would be back in the middle of the
afternoon, and they would be in no worse case than before. They might
try to escape in the night down the cliff, but it was not likely that
vigilant foes would permit men, clumsy in the woods like the soldiers,
to steal away in such a manner.

The earlier hours of the afternoon were passed by the sharpshooters on
either side trying to stalk one another. Although Robert had no part
in it, it was a savage play that alternately fascinated and repelled
him. He had no way to tell exactly, but he believed that two more of
the Indians had fallen, while a soldier received a wound. A bullet
grazed Black Rifle's head, but instead of daunting him it seemed to
give him a kind of fierce joy, and to inspire in him a greater desire
to slay.

These efforts, since they achieved no positive results, soon died
down, and both sides lay silent in their coverts. Robert made himself
as comfortable as he could behind a log, although he longed to stand
upright, and walk about once more like a human being. It was now
mid-afternoon and if the smoke had meant nothing good for them it was
time for Tayoga to be back. It was not conceivable that such a