William Gray had seen to that, and his best scout had been one Cornelius Heemskerk, a short, stout man of Dutch birth.
"It was one long, long tramp for me, Mynheer Henry," said Heemskerk, as he revolved slowly up to the camp fire where Henry was eating his breakfast, "and I am now very tired.

It was like walking four or five times around Holland, which is such a fine little country, with the canals and the flowers along them, and no great, dark woods filled with the fierce Iroquois." "Still, I've a notion, Mynheer Heemskerk, that you'd rather be here, and perhaps before the day is over you will get some fighting hot enough to please even you." Mynheer Heemskerk threw up his hands in dismay, but a half hour later he was eagerly discussing with Henry the possibility of overtaking some large band of retreating Iroquois.
Urged on by all the scouts and by those who had suffered at Wyoming, Colonel Butler gathered his forces and marched swiftly that very morning up the river against another Indian town, Cunahunta.

Fortunately for him, a band of riflemen and scouts unsurpassed in skill led the way, and saw to it that the road was safe.

In this band were the five, of course, and after them Heemskerk, young Taylor, and several others.
"If the Iroquois do not get in our way, we'll strike Cunahunta before night," said Heemskerk, who knew the way.
"It seems to me that they will certainly try to save their towns," said Henry.

"Surely Brant and the Tories will not let us strike so great a blow without a fight." "Most of their warriors are elsewhere, Mynheer Henry," said Heemskerk, "or they would certainly give us a big battle.