In a half hour he came back and said that Tandakora and his band were in the thicket watching the great trail left by St.Luc.
"The Ojibway does not dream that he himself is being watched," said the Onondaga, "and now I think we would better eat a little food from our knapsacks and wait until the dark night that is promised has fully come." Tayoga's report was wholly true.

Tandakora and twenty fierce warriors lay in the thicket, waiting to fall upon those who might follow the trail of St.Luc.He had no doubt that a force of some kind would come.
The Bostonnais and the English always followed a retreating enemy, and experience never kept them from walking into an ambush.

Tandakora was already counting the scalps he would take, and his savage heart was filled with delight.

He had been aghast when Bourlamaque abandoned Ticonderoga and Crown Point.

Throughout the region over which he had been roaming for three or four years the Bostonnais would be triumphant.
Andiatarocte and Oneadatote would pass into their possession forever.
The Ojibway chief belonged far to the westward, to the west of the Great Lakes, but the great war had called him, like so many others of the savage tribes, into the east, and he had been there so long that he had grown to look upon the country as his own, or at least held by him and his like in partnership with the French, a belief confirmed by the great victories at Duquesne and Oswego, William Henry and Ticonderoga.
Now Tandakora's whole world was overthrown.