They were still a mile ahead of their pursuers, and although the latter had gained that distance upon them since the first start, the scouts knew that, now they were exerting themselves to the utmost, the redskins could be gaining but little upon them, for the trained white man is, in point of speed and endurance, fairly a match for the average Indian.
They had now descended to within a short distance of the edge of the lake, in order to avoid the valleys and ravines running down from the hills.

The war whoops rose frequently in the forest behind them, the Indians yelling to give those at the fort notice that the chase was approaching.
"If there war any redskins left at the fort," Nat said to James, "they would guess what our game was; but I expect every redskin started out on the hunt, and the French soldiers, when they hear the yelling, won't know what to make of it, and, if they do anything, they will shut themselves up in their fort." Great as were the exertions which the scouts were making, they could tell, by the sound of the war whoops, that some at least of the Indians were gaining upon them.

Accustomed as every man of the party was to the fatigues of the forest, the strain was telling upon them all now.

For twelve miles they had run almost at the top of their speed, and the short panting breath, the set faces, and the reeling steps showed that they were nearly at the end of their powers.

Still they held on, with scarcely any diminishing of speed.