The sleeping three were almost hidden, although they were at the feet of the watchers, and the two saw each other but dimly.

They seemed to be in a tiny island with a white ocean circling about them.

The Onondaga lay flat and put his ear to the earth.
"What do you hear, Tayoga ?" whispered the scout.
"Nothing yet, Black Rifle, but the usual whispers of the wilderness, a little wind among the trees and a distant and uneasy deer walking." "Why should a deer be walking about at this time, and why should he be uneasy, Tayoga?
Any deer in his right mind ought to be taking his rest now in the forest." "That is true, Black Rifle, but this deer is worried and when a deer is worried there is a cause.

A deer is not like a man, full of fancies and creating danger when danger there is none.

He is troubled because there are strange presences in the woods, presences that he dreads." "Maybe he scents us." "No, the wind does not blow from us toward him.