They pressed on at speed, and, within the appointed time, they sank down
in a dense clump of bushes, where Tayoga sent forth the mellow,
beautiful song of a bird, a note that penetrated a remarkable distance
in the still day.

"It is a call that Dagaeoga knows," he said. "We have used it often in
the forest."

In a few minutes the reply, exactly the same, faint but clear, came back
from the north. When the sound died away, Tayoga imitated the bird
again, and the second reply came as before.

"Now we will go forward and shake the hand of Dagaeoga," said the
Onondaga.

Rising from the bush, the two walked boldly in the direction whence the
reply had come, and they found a tall, straight young figure advancing
to meet them.

"Robert, my lad!" exclaimed Willet.

"Dagaeoga!" said the Onondaga.

Each seized a hand of Robert and shook it. Their meeting was not
especially demonstrative, but their emotions were very deep. They were
bound together by no common ties.

"You've changed, Robert," said Willet, merely as a sort of relief to his
feelings.