No sachem of the Onondagas, however great, could have been greater in fidelity and courage." Robert made two beds of leaves.

On one he spread the blanket that was strapped to Tayoga's back.

Then he built his own place and felt that they were sheltered and secure for the time, and in truth they were housed as well as millions of cave men for untold centuries had been.

It was a good cave, sweet-smelling, with pure, clean air, and Robert saw that if it rained the water would not come in at the door, but would run past it down the slope, which in itself was one of the luckiest strokes of fortune.
Tayoga lay on his blanket on his bed of leaves, and, looking up at the rough and rocky roof, smiled.

He had begged Robert to leave him and go to the battle, and he knew that if his comrade had gone, he, wounded as he was, would surely have perished.