The
Onondaga came out of his sleep, but he was delirious for a little while,
Robert sitting by him, covering him with his blanket and seeing that his
hurt was kept away from the air.
The rain ceased by and by, but heavy fogs and vapors floated over the
mountains, so dense that Robert could not see more than fifteen or
twenty feet beyond the mouth of the cave, in front of which a stream of
water from the rain a foot deep was flowing. He was thankful. He knew
that fog and flood together would hide them in absolute security for
another day and night at least.
He ate a little venison and regretted that he did not have a small
skillet in which he could make soup for Tayoga later on, but since he
did not have it he resolved to pound venison into shreds between stones,
when the time came. Examining Tayoga again, he found, to his great joy,
that the fever was decreasing, and he washed the wound anew. Then he sat
by him a long time while the morning passed. Tayoga, who had been
muttering in his fever, sank into silence, and about noon, opening his
eyes, he said in a weak voice:
"How long have we been here, Dagaeoga?"
"About half of the second day is now gone," replied Robert, "and your
fever has gone with it.
Pages:
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311