Now he was sure.
Tayoga was not alone.

His moccasins never left any sound.

He stood up expectant, and two figures appeared among the bushes.

They were Tayoga, calm, his breath unhurried, a faint smile in his dark eyes, and Grosvenor, exhausted, reeling, his clothing worse torn than ever, but the light of hope on his face.

Robert uttered a cry of joy and grasped the young Englishman's hand.
"Thank God, you are here!" he exclaimed.
"I thank God and I thank this wonderful young Indian too," panted Grosvenor.