Tayoga's heart swelled with indignation at the idea that the forest
might be destroyed, but he said nothing, as he knew that Willet and
Robert shared his feeling.

"Here's your rifle, Tayoga," said the hunter; "I suppose you didn't
have an occasion to use your bow and arrows."

"No, Great Bear," replied the Onondaga, "but I might have had the
chance had I come earlier."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I saw on the grass a human trace. It was made by a foot clothed in a
moccasin, a large foot, a very large foot, the foot of a man whom we
all have cause to hate."

"I take it you're speaking of Tandakora, the Ojibway."

"None other. I cannot be mistaken. But the trail was cold. He and his
warriors have gone north. They may be thirty, forty miles from here."

"Likely enough, Tayoga. They're on their way to join the force the
French are sending to the fort at the junction of the Monongahela and
the Alleghany. Perhaps St. Luc--and there isn't a cleverer officer in
this continent--is with them. I tell you, Tayoga, and you too, Robert,
I don't like it! That young Washington ought to have been sent earlier
into the Ohio country, and they should have given him a much larger
force. We're sluggards and all our governors are sluggards, except
maybe Shirley of Massachusetts. With the war just blazing up the