Robert in his turn bent forward and plied the paddle. He was not only fresh, but the wonderful thrill of escape gave him a strength far beyond the normal, and the great canoe fairly danced over the waters toward the dusky deeps of the lake, while the Onondaga crouched at the other end of the canoe, rifle in hand, intently watching the heavy pall of dusk behind them.
Their situation was still dangerous in the extreme, but the soul of Tayoga swelled with triumph. Tandakora, the Ojibway, had rejoiced because he had expected a great taking of scalps, but the purer spirit of the Onondaga soared into the heights because he had saved his comrade of a thousand dangers. He still saw faintly through the darkness the campfires of the victorious French and Indian army, and he heard the swish of paddles, but he did not yet discern any pursuing canoe. He detached his eyes for a moment from the bank of dusk in front of him, and looked up at the skies. The clouds and vapors kept him from seeing the great star upon which his patron saint, Tododaho, sat, but he knew that he was there, and that he was watching over him. He could not have achieved so much in the face of uttermost peril and then fail in the lesser danger.
The canoe glided swiftly on toward the wider reaches of the lake, and the Onondaga never relaxed his watchfulness, for an instant. He was poised in the canoe, every nerve and muscle ready to leap in a second into activity, while his ears were strained for the sounds of paddles or oars. Now he relied, as often before, more upon hearing than sight. Presently a sound came, and it was that of oars. A boat parted the wall of dusk and he saw that it contained both French and Indians, eight in all, the warriors uttering a shout as they beheld the fugitive canoe.
"Keep steadily on, Dagaeoga," said the Onondaga. "I have my long barreled rifle, and it will carry much farther than those of the foe. In another minute it will tell them they had best stop, and if they will not obey its voice then I will repeat the command with your rifle."
Robert heard the sharp report of Tayoga's weapon, and then a cry from the pursuing boat, saying the bullet had found its mark.
"They still come, though in a hesitating manner," said Tayoga, "and I must even give them a second notice."
Now Robert heard the crack of the other rifle, and the answering cry, signifying that its bullet, too, had sped home.
"They stop now," said Tayoga. "They heed the double command." He rapidly reloaded the rifles, and Robert, who saw an uncommonly thick bank of dusk ahead, paddled directly into the heart of it. They paused there a few moments and neither saw nor heard any pursuers. Tayoga put down the rifles, now ready again for his deadly aim, and the two kept for a long time a straight course toward the center of the lake.