It was only about fifteen feet below him, but his imagination, heightened by time and place, made the distance three or fourfold greater.
He felt a momentary fear lest he slip and fall into the dark stream, and he clung tightly to an upthrust bough.
The fallen tree swayed a little with the weight of the three, but Robert knew that it was safe.

It was not the bridge that they had to fear, but what awaited them on the farther shore.

Tayoga stopped, and the tense manner in which he crouched among the boughs and leaves showed that he was listening with all his ears.
"Do you hear them ?" Robert whispered.
"Not their footsteps," Tayoga whispered back, "but there was a soft call in the woods, the low cry of a night bird, and then the low cry of another night bird replying.

It was the warriors signaling to one another, the first signal they have given." "I heard the cries, too," said Willet, behind Robert, "and no doubt Tandakora and De Courcelles feel they are closing in on us.

It's a good thing this tree was blown down but lately, and the leaves and boughs are so thick on it." "It was so provided by Tododaho in our great need," said Tayoga.
"Do you mean that we're likely to be besieged while we're still on our bridge ?" asked Robert, and despite himself he could not repress a shiver.
"Not a siege exactly," replied Willet, "but the warriors may pass on the farther shore, while we're still in the tree.