“The wings of our force are protected amply now,” said Tayoga, in his precise school English.  “When such eyes as those of our flankers are looking and watching, no ambush against us is possible.  Now our main force will advance with certainty.”

Twenty men had been sent out as scouts and the remaining eighty, eager for combat, white and red, advanced on the main trail, not fast but steadily.  Now and then the cries of bird or beast, signals from the flankers, came from right or left, and the warriors with Daganoweda responded.

“They are telling us,” said Tayoga to Robert, “that they have not yet found a hostile presence.  The enemy has left behind him no skirmishers or rear guard.  It may be that we shall not overtake them until we approach the lake or reach it.”

“How do you know that we will overtake them at all, Tayoga?  They may go so fast that we can’t come up.”

“I know it, Dagaeoga, because if they are led by St. Luc, and I think they are, they will not try to get away.  If they believe we are not about to overtake them they will wait for us at some place they consider good.”

“You’re probably right, Tayoga, and it’s likely that we’ll be in battle before night.  One would think there is enough country here on this continent for the whole world without having the nations making war over any part of it.  As I have said before, here we are fighting to secure for an English king or a French king mountains and lakes and rivers and forests which neither of them will ever see, and of the existence of which, perhaps, they don’t know.”

“And as I have told you before, Dagaeoga, the mountains and lakes and rivers and forests for which the English and French kings have their people fight, belong to neither, but to the great League of the Hodenosaunee and other red nations.”

“That’s true, Tayoga.  Sometimes I’m apt to forget it, but you know I’m a friend of the Hodenosaunee.  If I had the power I’d see that never an acre of their country was filched from them by the white men.”

“I know it well, Dagaeoga.”

The pursuit continued all the morning, and the great trail left by the French and Indians broadened steadily.  Other trails flowed into and merged with it, and it became apparent that the force pursued was larger than the force pursuing.  Yet Willet, Rogers and Daganoweda did not flinch, clinging to the trail, which now led straight toward Andiatarocte.

CHAPTER VIII

ARESKOUI’S FAVOR

In the dusk of the evening the whole force came to the crest of a hill from which through a cleft they caught a glimpse of the shimmering waters of the lake, called by the Iroquois Andiatarocte, by the French, St. Sacrement, and by the English, George.  It was not Robert’s first view of it, but he always thrilled at the prospect.

“Both Andiatarocte and Oneadatote must be ours,” he said to Tayoga.  “They’re too fine and beautiful to pass into possession of the French.”