Chapter VIII. Waraiyageh

Now, a few pleasant days of winter came. The ground dried under comparatively warm winds, and the forest awoke. They heard everywhere the ripple of running water, and wild animals came out of their dens. Tayoga shot a young bear which made a welcome addition to their supplies.

"I hold that there's nothing better in the woods than young bear," said Willet, as he ate a juicy steak Robert had broiled over the coals. "Venison is mighty good, especially so when you're hungry, but you can get tired of it. What say you, Tayoga?"

"It is true," replied the Onondaga. "Fat young bear is very fine. None of us wants one thing all the time, and we want something besides meat, too. The nations of the Hodenosaunee are great and civilized, much ahead of the other red people, because they plant gardens and orchards and fields, and have grain and vegetables, corn, beans, squash and many other things good for the table."

"And the Iroquois, while they grow more particular about the table, remain the most valiant of all the forest people. I see your point, Tayoga. Civilization doesn't take anything from a man's courage and tenacity. Rather it adds to them. There are our enemies, the French, who are as brave and enduring as anybody, and yet they're the best cooks in the world, and more particular about their food than any other nation."

"You always speak of the French with a kind of affection, Dave," said Robert.

"I suppose I do," said the hunter. "I have reasons."

"As I know now, Dave, you've been in Paris, can't you tell us something about the city?"

"It's the finest town in the world, Robert, and they've the brightest, gayest life there, at least a part of 'em have, but things are not going right at home with the French. They say a whole nation's fortune has been sunk in the palace at Versailles, and the people are growing poorer all the time, but the government hopes to dazzle 'em by waging a successful and brilliant war over here. I repeat, though, Robert, that I like the French. A great nation, sound at the core, splendid soldiers as we're seeing, and as we're likely to see for a long time to come."

They pushed on with all speed toward Mount Johnson, the weather still favoring them, making their last camp in a fine oak grove, and reckoning that they would achieve their journey's end before noon the next day. They did not build any fire that night, but when they rose at dawn they saw the smoke of somebody else's fire on the eastern horizon.

"It couldn't be the enemy," said Willet. "He wouldn't let his smoke go up here for all the world to see, so near to the home of Colonel William Johnson and within the range of the Mohawks."

"That is so," said Tayoga. "It is likely to be some force of Colonel Johnson himself, and we can