"You find this a good place, don't you, Tayoga?" said Willet, with a
certain deference.

"It suits us well," replied the young Onondaga in his measured tones.
"No man, Indian or white, has been here today. The lilies are
undisturbed. Not a reed has been bent. Ducks that have not yet seen us
are swimming quietly up the creek, and farther on a stag is drinking at
its edge. I can hear him lapping the water."

"That was wonderful, Tayoga," said Willet with admiration. "I wouldn't
have noticed it, but since you've spoken of it I can hear the stag too.
Now he's gone away. Maybe he's heard us."

"Like as not," said Robert, "and he'd have been a good prize, but he's
taken the alarm, and he's safe. We'll have to look for something else.
Just there on the right you can see an opening among the leaves, Dave,
and that's our place for landing."

Willet sent the canoe through the open water between the tall reeds,
then slowed it down with his paddle, and the prow touched the bank
gently.

The three stepped out and drew the canoe with great care upon the shore,
in order that it might dry. The bank at that point was not steep and the
presence of the deer at the water's edge farther up indicated a slope
yet easier there.

"Appears to be a likely place for game," said Willet. "While the stag
has scented us and gone, there must be more deer in the woods. Maybe
they're full of 'em, since this is doubtful ground and warriors and