“Suppose we go slowly south, still keeping in the shadow of the trees,” he said.  “We can gain at least that much advantage.”

Fortunately the scattered fringe of reeds and bushes, growing in the water, extended far to the south, and they were able to keep in their protecting shadow a full hour, although their rate of progress was not more than one-third that of the Indians, who were coming without obstruction in open water.  Nevertheless, it was a distinct gain, and, meanwhile, they awaited the coming of the night with the deepest anxiety.  They recognized that their fate turned upon a matter of a half hour or so.  If only the night would arrive before Tandakora!  Robert glanced at the low sun, and, although at all times, it was beautiful, he had never before prayed so earnestly that it would go over the other side of the world, and leave their own side to darkness.

The splendor of the great yellow star deepened as it sank.  It poured showers of rays upon the broad surface of the lake, and the silver of the waters turned to orange and gold.  Everything there was enlarged and made more vivid, standing out twofold against the burning western background.  Nothing beyond the shadow could escape the observation of the Indians in the boats, and they themselves in Robert’s intense imagination changed from a line of six light craft into a great fleet.

Nevertheless the sun, lingering as if it preferred their side of the world to any other, was bound to go at last.  The deep colors in the water faded.  The orange and gold changed back to silver, and the silver, in its turn, gave way to gray, twilight began to draw a heavy veil over the east, and Tayoga said in deep tones: 

“Lo, the Sun God has decided that we may escape!  He will let the night come before Tandakora!”

Then the sun departed all at once, and the brilliant afterglow soon faded.  Night settled down, thick and dark, with the waters, ruffled by a light wind, showing but dimly.  The line of Tandakora became invisible, and the two youths felt intense relief.

“Now we will start toward the northeastern end of the lake,” said Tayoga.  “It will be wiser than to seek the shortest road across, because Tandakora will think naturally that we have gone that way, and he will take it also.”

“And it’s paddling all night for us,” said Robert “Well, I welcome it.”

They were interrupted by the whirring of the wild fowl again, though on a much greater scale than before.  The twilight was filled with feathered bodies.  Tayoga, in an instant, was all attention.

“Something has frightened them,” he said.

“Perhaps a bear or a deer,” said Robert.

“I think not.  They are used to wild animals, and would not be startled at their approach.  There is only one being that everything in the forest generally fears.”

“Man?”

“Even so, Dagaeoga.”

“Perhaps we’d better pull in close to the bank and look.”