Not that tracking the Oneida scouting party had proved difficult. The enemy had left signs which, although subtle, had been easy to follow. They were intended to be. These signs would guide the main force that was coming up behind; a force which, Wyatt hoped, was now floundering because Tewanias had caught and killed the Oneida runner who had been sent to rendezvous with it.

The blazes were carved into the bark of trees, small so as to be unobtrusive, yet deep enough so that the trained eye would be drawn to the white wood that lay beneath the cut. The combinations of marks – circles and rectangles – indicated which direction to take.

“They’re moving north,” Donaldson grunted. “They’ll know the lake is the colonel’s quickest route home.”

Billy Drew peered into the forest and fingered the hammer of his rifle. “How far is Bulwagga?”

“Fifteen miles maybe,” Wyatt said. “Give or take.”

“If they stay on this trail, we’ve time to get ahead of them,” Donaldson mused, throwing Wyatt a speculative look. “We pick our spot, we can cut them out.”

“Payback for Stryker,” Jem Beddowes muttered.

Wyatt looked towards the sun, which had risen less than half an hour before. Fearful of losing the trail markers in the dark and secure in the knowledge that the men they were tracking would also have sought to rest, the Rangers had spent the night under a hastily built lean-to, without a fire and with each man taking a two-hour watch. They had resumed the chase at first light.

Despite Tewanias’s confidence, Wyatt wondered if the Mohawk had caught up with the runner. If he hadn’t, how close was the enemy? The Rangers had been defacing the markers as they’d come upon them, laying false blazes to obstruct pursuit, which was all well and good, but Wyatt knew that the best way of protecting the colonel’s retreat wasn’t for the tail of the enemy snake to be cut off, it was the head.

“What are you thinking?” Donaldson asked, cutting into Wyatt’s thoughts.

“I’m thinking that you’re right. We move fast, we can outflank the buggers.”

Billy Drew showed his teeth. It wasn’t so much a smile as a feral grin.

“What’s keeping us, Lieutenant?” he said.

Exultant at having visited the first blow upon their enemy, the Oneida scouts were moving fast. Travelling in single file and with each man taking it in turns to lead, they knew it could only be a matter of time before their quarry was sighted. They had tasted blood. They wanted more.