“But how do you know it was St. Luc who stood by the bush, and not De Courcelles or Jumonville?”

“Because I have been trained from infancy, as an Onondaga and Iroquois, to notice everything.  We have to see to live, and I observed long ago that the feet of St. Luc were smaller than those of De Courcelles or Jumonville.  You will behold the larger imprints that turn out just here, and they face St. Luc, who stood by the bush.  Once they not only thought of turning back to meet us, but actually prepared to do so.”

“What proof have you?”

“O Dageaoga, you would not have asked me that question if you had used your eyes, and had thought a little.  The print is so simple that a little child may read.  The toes of their moccasins at a point just beyond the bush turn about, that is, back on the trail.  And here the huge moccasins of Tandakora have taken two steps back.  Perhaps they intended to meet us in full face or to lay an ambush, but at last they continued in their old course and increased their speed.”

“How do you know they went faster, Tayoga?”

“O Dagaeoga, is your mind wandering today that your wits are so dull?  See, how the distance between the imprints lengthens!  When you run faster you leap farther.  Everybody does.”

“I apologize, Tayoga.  It was a foolish question to be asked by one who has lived in the forest as long as I have.  Why do you think they increased their speed, and how does St. Luc know that they are followed?”

“It may be that they know a good place of ambush farther ahead, and St. Luc is sure that he is pursued, because he knows the minds of Willet, Rogers and Daganoweda.  He knows they are the kind of minds that always follow and push a victory to the utmost.  Here the warriors knelt and drank.  They had a right to be thirsty after such a battle and such a retreat.”

He pointed to numerous imprints by the bank of a clear brook, and rangers and Mohawks, imitating the example of those whom they pursued, drank thirstily.  Then they resumed the advance, and they soon saw that the steps of St. Luc’s men were shortening.

“They are thinking again of battle or ambush,” said Tayoga, “and when they think of it a second time they are likely to try it.  It becomes us now to go most warily.”

Daganoweda and Willet also had noticed St. Luc’s change of pace, and stopping, they took counsel with themselves.  About two miles ahead the country was exceedingly rough, cut by rocky ravines, and covered heavily with forest and thickets.

“If St. Luc elects to make a stand,” said Willet, “that is the place he will choose.  What say you, Daganoweda?”

“I think as the Great Bear thinks,” replied the Mohawk chieftain.

“And you, Rogers?”

“Seems likely to me, too.  At any rate, we must reckon on it.”

“And so reckoning on it, we’d better stop and throw out more scouts.”