Usually at this time of the year it was hot in the forest, but after the great storm and rain of the night before a brisk, cool wind moved in waves among the trees, shaking the leaves and sending lingering raindrops down on the heads of the pursuers.
Black Rifle curved off to the right as a flanker against ambush, and two of Daganoweda's best scouts were sent to the left, while the main force went on directly, feeling now that the danger from a hidden force had been diminished greatly, their zeal increasing as the trail grew warmer.
Daganoweda believed that they could overtake St.Luc in three or four hours, and he and his Mohawks, flushed with victory on the lake, were now all for speed, the rangers being scarcely less eager.
The country through which they were passing was wooded heavily, wild, picturesque and full of game.

But it was well known to Mohawks and rangers, and the two lads had also been through it.

They started up many deer that fled through the forest, and the small streams and ponds were covered with wild fowl.
"I don't wonder that the settlers fail to come in here on this strip of land between George and Champlain," said Robert to Tayoga.

"It's a No Man's land, roamed over only by warriors, and even the most daring frontiersman must have some regard for the scalp on his head." "I could wish it to be kept a No Man's land," said Tayoga earnestly.
"Maybe it will--for a long time, anyway.

But, Tayoga, you're as good a trailer as Black Rifle or any Mohawk.