"And yet we cannot stay here always," said the Onondaga. "Tomorrow we must think of a way of escape."
"Let tomorrow take care of itself. Tayoga, you're too serious! You're missing the pleasure of the night."
"Dagaeoga loves to talk and he talks well. His voice is pleasant in my ear like to the murmur of a silver brook. Perhaps he is right. Lo! the clouds have gone, and I can see Tododaho on his star. Areskoui watches over us by day and Tododaho by night. We are once more the favorites of the Sun God and of the great Onondaga who went away to his everlasting star more than four centuries ago. Again I say Dagaeoga is right; I will enjoy the night, and let the morrow care for itself."
He drew the folds of his blanket to his chin and stretched his length before the fire. Having made up his mind to be satisfied, Tayoga would let nothing interfere with such a laudable purpose. Soon he slept peacefully.
"You might follow him," said Willet.
"I don't think I can do it now," said Robert. "I've a restless spirit."
"Then wander about the peak, and I'll take up my old place at the edge of the slope."
Robert went back to the far side, where he had stretched his rope of grape vines down to the spring, and, craving their cool, fresh taste, he ate more of the grapes. He noticed then that they were uncommonly plentiful. All along the cliff they trailed in great, rich clusters, black and glossy, fairly asking to be eaten. In places the vines hung in perfect mazes, and he looked at them questioningly. Then the thought came to him and he wondered why it had been so slow of arrival. He returned to Willet and said:
"I don't think you need watch any longer here, Dave."
"Why?" was the hunter's astonished reply.