The broad trail led steadily on toward the north, but Willet, after a while, spread out his own little force, taking no chances with forest ambush.  He considered it highly probable that before long Tandakora would curve aside with some of his warriors, hoping to trap the unwary.  He was confirmed in his opinion by the Onondaga’s reading of the trail.

“I find the footprints of the Ojibway chief again,” said Tayoga.  “Here they go at the edge of the trail.  Now he has stopped.  His stride has ceased, and he stands with his moccasins close together.  He is probably talking with his warriors and he meditates something.  The rage of Tandakora is as great as that of De Courcelles, but Tandakora is not hurt, and he is able to strike.  He moves on again, and, ah! here he goes into the woods.  Beyond question he is now engaged in planting an ambush for those who would follow St. Luc.  Shall we go back, Great Bear, or shall we meet the Ojibway’s ambush with an ambush of our own?”

The black eyes of the Onondaga sparkled.

“We ought to turn back,” replied Willet, “but I can’t resist playing Tandakora’s own game with him.  It may give us a chance to rid the border of that scourge.  We’ll leave the trail, and go into the deep bush.”

Led by the hunter the little band plunged into the forest and began a careful circle, intending to come back to the trail some distance ahead, and to post themselves behind Tandakora in case that wily savage was planning an ambush, as they felt sure he was.  They redoubled their precautions, ceasing all talk for the while, and allowing no bushes to rustle as they passed.  Willet led the line, and Tayoga brought up the rear.  Grosvenor was just behind Robert.  He, too, was now able to bring down his feet in soundless fashion, and to avoid every stick or twig that might break with a crack beneath his weight.  While he was aware of the perils before them, his heart beat high.  He felt that he was making further progress, and that he was becoming a worthy forest runner.

After two careful hours of travel, they came back again to the broad trail which showed that St. Luc was still maintaining steady progress toward the north.  But both the hunter and the Onondaga felt sure that Tandakora and a chosen band were now to the south, waiting in ambush for those who would come in pursuit.

“We’d better draw ’em if we can,” said Willet.  “Let ’em know we’re here, but make ’em believe we’re friends.”

“I think I can do it,” said Tayoga.  “I know Huron and St. Regis signals.  It is likely that some of the warriors with Tandakora are Hurons, and, in any event, the Ojibway will understand the signals.”

He imitated the cawing of a crow, and presently the answer came from the forest about a quarter of a mile to the south.  The cry was repeated, and the answer came duly a second time.  No one in the little band now doubted that Tandakora and his men were there.