“Perhaps Dieskau is already on the march,” said the Onondaga.  “The glories that St. Luc, Dumas, Ligneris and the others won at Duquesne will not let him sleep.  He would surpass them.  He would repeat on the shores of Andiatarocte what they did so triumphantly by the ford of the Monongahela.”

“Thunderation!” exclaimed Rogers.  “The boy may be right!  They may be even now stealing a march on us!  If our army down below should be wiped out as Braddock’s was, then we might never recover!”

Robert, who could not keep from hearing all the talk, listened to it with dismay.  He had visions of Johnson’s army of untrained militia attacked suddenly by French veterans and a huge force of Indians.  It would be like the spring of a monstrous beast out of the dark, and defeat, perhaps complete destruction for his own, would be the result.  But his courage came back in an instant.  The surprise could not be carried out so long as the band to which he belonged was in existence.

“I think,” said Willet, “that we’d better go south along the shore of the lake, and approach as near to the fort as we dare.  Then Daganoweda and a half dozen of his best warriors will scout under its very walls.  Do you care for the task, Daganoweda?”

The eyes of the young Mohawk chieftain glittered.  Willet had judged him aright.  It would be no task for him, it would be instead a labor of pleasure.  In fifteen minutes he was off with his warriors, disappearing like shadows in the undergrowth, and Robert knew that whatever report Daganoweda might bring back it would not only be true but full.

The main band followed, though far more slowly, keeping well back from the lake, that no Indian eye might catch their presence in the woods, but able, nevertheless, to observe for immense distances everything that passed on the vast silver sheet of water.  Rogers observed once more the fleet of Indian canoes rowing southward, and he and Willet were firmer than ever in their belief that it indicated some measure of importance.

Their own march through the woods was peaceful.  They frightened no game from their path, indicating that the entire region had been hunted over thoroughly by the great force that had lain at Crown Point, and, after a while, they passed a point parallel to the fort, though several miles to the westward.  Willet, Tayoga and Robert looked for trails or traces of bands or hunters, but found none.  Apparently the forest had been deserted by the enemy for some days, and their alarming belief was strengthened anew.

Four miles farther on they were to meet Daganoweda and his warriors, at a tiny silver pond among the hills, and now they hurried their march.

“I’m thinking,” said Robert, “that Daganoweda will be there first, waiting with a tale to tell.”

“All signs point to it,” said Tayoga.  “It is well that we came north on this scouting expedition, because we, too, may have something to say when we return to Waraiyageh.”