They had isolated them.

They had supplied themselves with good guns and plenty of ammunition from the Dutch and English of New York.

The long thin line of French settlements lay naked before them.

They were gathered in the woods, like hounds in leash, waiting for the orders of their chiefs, which should precipitate them with torch and with tomahawk upon the belt of villages.
Such was the situation as the little party of refugees paddled along the bank of the river, seeking the only path which could lead them to peace and to freedom.

Yet it was, as they well knew, a dangerous road to follow.