But Tayoga never doubted.  The silent and invisible warning, like a modern wireless current, reached him again.  Now, he knelt at the very edge of the shelf, and drew his long hunting knife.  He tried to pierce the darkness with his eyes, and always he looked up the stream in the direction in which they had come.  He strained his ears too to the utmost, concentrating the full powers of his hearing upon the river, but the only sounds that reached him were the flowing of the current, the bubbling of the water at the edges, and its lapping against a tree or bush torn up by the storm and floating on the surface of the stream.

The Onondaga stepped from the shelf, finding a place for his feet in crevices below, the water rising almost to his knees, and leaned farther forward to listen.  One hand held firmly to a projection of stone above and the other clasped the knife.

Tayoga maintained the intense concentration of his faculties, as if he had drawn them together in an actual physical way, until they bore upon one point, and he poured so much strength and vitality into them that he made the darkness thin away before his eyes and he heard noises of the water that had not come to him before.

A broken bough, a bush and a sapling washed past.  Then came a tree, and deflecting somewhat from the current it floated toward the shelf.  Leaning far over and extending the hand that held the knife, Tayoga struck.  When the blade came back it was red and the young Onondaga uttered a tremendous war whoop that rang and echoed in the confines of the stony hollow.

Lennox and Willet sprang to their feet, all sleep driven away at once, and instinctively grasped their rifles.

“What is it, Tayoga?” exclaimed the startled Willet.

“The attack of the savage warriors,” replied the Onondaga.  “One came floating on a tree.  He thought to slay us as we slept and take away our scalps, but the river that brought him living has borne him away dead.”

“And so they know we’re here,” said the hunter, “and your watchfulness has saved us.  Well, Tayoga, it’s one more deed for which we have to thank you, but I think you’d better get back on the shelf.  They can fire from the other side, farther up, and although it would be at random, a bullet or two might strike here.”

The Onondaga swung himself back and all three flattened themselves against the rock.  After Tayoga’s triumphant shout there was no sound save those of the river and the rain.  But Robert expected it.  He knew the horde would be quiet for a while, hoping for a surprise the second time after the first one had failed.

“It was bold,” he said, “for a single warrior to come floating down the stream in search of us.”

“But it would have succeeded if Tayoga hadn’t been awake,” said the hunter.  “One warrior could have knifed us all at his leisure.”

“Where do you think they are now?”

“They must be crouched in the shelter of rocks.  If they had nothing over them the storm would take the fighting spirit for the time out of savages, even wild for scalps.  I’m mighty glad we have the canoe.  It holds the food we need for a siege, and if the chance for escape comes it will bear us away.  I think, Tayoga, I can see a figure stirring among the boulders on the other side farther up.”