Robert moved his stiff fingers in his blanket and sat up, feeling cold and dismal. Tayoga was sitting up also, and the two looked at each other. "In very truth those bear caves never seemed more inviting to me," said young Lennox, solemnly, "and yet I only see them from afar." "Dagaeoga has fallen in love with bear caves," said the Onondaga, in a whimsical tone. "The time is not so far back when he never talked about them at all, and now words in their praise fall from his lips in a stream." "It's because I've experienced enlightenment, Tayoga. It is only in the last two or three days that I've learned the vast superiority of a cave to any other form of human habitation. Our remote ancestors lived in them two or three hundred thousand years, and we've been living in houses of wood or brick or stone only six or seven thousand years, I suppose, and so the cave, if you judge by the length of time, is our true home. Hence I'm filled with a just enthusiasm at the thought of going back speedily to the good old ways and the good old days. It's possible, Tayoga, that our remote grandfathers knew best." "When Dagaeoga comes to his death bed, seventy or eighty years from now, and the medicine man tells him but little more breath is left in his body, what then do you think he will do?" "What will I do, Tayoga?" "You will say to the medicine man, 'Tell me exactly how long I have to live,' and the medicine man will reply: 'Ten minutes, O Dagaeoga, venerable chief and great orator.' Then you will say: 'Let all the people be summoned and let them crowd into the wigwam in which I lie,' and when they have all come and stand thick about your bed, you will say, 'Now raise me into a sitting position and put the pillows thick behind my back and head that I may lean against them.' Then you will speak to the people. The words will flow from your lips in a continuous and golden stream. It will be the finest speech of your life. It will be filled with magnificent words, many of them, eight or ten syllables long. It will be mellow like the call of a trumpet. It will be armed with force, and it will be beautiful with imagery; it will be suffused and charged with color, it will be the very essence of poetry and power, and as the aged Dagaeoga draws his very last breath so he will speak his very last word, and thus, in a golden cloud, his soul will go away into infinite space, to dwell forever in the bosom of Manitou, with the immortal sachems, Tododaho and Hayowentha!" "Do you know, Tayoga, I think that would be a happy death," said Robert earnestly. The Onondaga laughed heartily.