"The west wind that has served us so well is dying. _Gaoh_, which in our language of the Hodenosaunee is the spirit of the winds, knows that we need it no more. Surely the land is near because _Gaoh_ after being a benevolent spirit to us so long would not desert us at the last moment." "I think you must be right, Tayoga, because now I also notice the strong, keen perfume of the woods, and our west wind has sunk to almost nothing." "Nay, Dagaeoga, it is more than that. It has died wholly. _Gaoh_ tells us that having brought us so near the land we can now fend for ourselves." The air became absolutely still, the swell ceased, the surface of the lake became as smooth as glass, and, as if swept back by a mighty, unseen hand, the mists and vapors suddenly floated away toward the east. Tayoga and Robert uttered cries of admiration and gratitude, as a high, green shore appeared, veiled but not hidden in the dusk. "So Tododaho has brought us safely across the waters of Ganoatohale," said the Onondaga. "Have you any idea of the point to which we have come?" asked Robert. "No, but it is sufficient that we have come to the shore anywhere. And see, Dagaeoga, the mists and vapors still hang heavily over the western half of the lake, forming an impenetrable wall that shuts us off from Tandakora and his warriors. Truly we are for the time the favorites of the gods." "Even so, Tayoga, you see, too, that we have come to land just where a little river empties into the lake, and we can go on up it." They paddled with vigorous arms into the mouth of the stream, and did not stop until the day came. It was a beautiful little river, the massed vegetation growing in walls of green to the very water's edge, the songs of innumerable birds coming out of the cool gloom on either side. Robert was enchanted. His spirits were still at the high key to which they had been raised by the events of the night. Both he and Tayoga had enjoyed many hours of rest in the canoe, and now they were keen and strong for the day's work. So, it was long after dawn when they stopped paddling, and pushed their prow into a little cove. "And now," said Robert, "I think we can land, dress, and cook some of this precious deer, which we have brought with us in spite of everything." Their clothing had been dried by the sun, and they resumed it. Then, taking all risks, they lighted a fire, broiled tender steaks and ate like giants who had finished great labors. "I think," said Tayoga, "that when we proceed a few miles farther it will be better to leave the canoe. It is likely that as we advance the river will become narrower, and we would be an easy target for a shot from the bank." "I don't like to abandon a canoe which has brought us safely across the lake." "We will put it away where it can await our coming another time. But I think we can dare the river for some distance yet."