Robert found the march not only pleasant but exhilarating.  It appealed to his imaginative and sensitive mind, which magnified everything, and made the tints more vivid and brilliant.  To him the forests were larger and grander than they were to the others, and the rivers were wider and deeper.  The hours were more intense, he lived every second of them, and the future had a scope and brilliancy that few others would foresee.  In company with youths of his own age coming from the largest city of the British colonies, the one that had the richest social traditions, his whole nature expanded, and he cast away much of his reserve.  Around the campfires in the evening he became one of the most industrious talkers, and now and then he was carried away so much by his own impulse that all the rest would cease and listen to the mellow, golden voice merely for the pleasure of hearing.  Then Tayoga and Willet would look at each other and smile, knowing that Dagaeoga, though all unconsciously, held the center of the stage, and the others were more than willing for him to hold it.

The friendships of the young ripen fast, and under such circumstances they ripen faster than ever.  Robert soon felt that he had known the three young Philadelphians for years, and a warm friendship, destined to last all their lives, in which Tayoga was included, was soon formed.  Robert saw that his new comrades, although they did not know much of the forest, were intelligent, staunch and brave, and they saw in him all that Tayoga and Willet saw, which was a great deal.

The heat and dryness increased, and the brown of leaf and grass deepened.  Nearly all the green was gone now, and autumn would soon come.  The forest was full of game, and Willet and Tayoga kept them well supplied, yet their progress became slower.  Those who had been wounded severely approached the critical stage, and once they stopped two days until all danger had passed.

Three days later a fierce summer storm burst upon them.  Tayoga had foreseen it, and the whole troop was gathered in the lee of a hill, with all their ammunition protected by blankets, canvas and the skins of deer that they had killed.  But the young Philadelphians, unaccustomed to the fury of the elements in the wilderness, looked upon it with awe.

In the west the lightning blazed and the thunder crashed for a long time.  Often the forest seemed to swim in a red glare, and Robert himself was forced to shut his eyes before the rapid flashes of dazzling brightness.  Then came a great rushing of wind with a mighty rain on its edge, and, when the wind died, the rain fell straight down in torrents more than an hour.

Although they kept their ammunition and other supplies dry the men themselves were drenched to the bone, but the storm passed more suddenly than it had come.  The clouds parted on the horizon, then all fled away.  The last raindrop fell and a shining sun came out in a hot blue sky.  As the men resumed a drooping march their clothes dried fast in the fiery rays and their spirits revived.