The walkers pushed steadily on, never at a loss for direction, for Thomas Penn had secretly sent out a surveying party in advance to blaze the trees along a straight line for as great a distance as it was thought possible for a man to walk in eighteen hours. Therefore even when they reached the wilderness the walkers had the straightest course marked out for them. Then the Indians began to protest against the increasing speed of the white men, saying again and again, "That's not fair. You are running! You were to _walk_." In answer the white men only said that the treaty had used the words, "As far as a man can _go_," and therefore they had a right to run if they wished. Presently the Indians tried to delay the march by stopping to rest, but the horsemen who were with the party dismounted and insisted on the Indians riding their horses, and so the "march" continued as rapidly as ever. At last the Indians refused to go any farther, and left the white men. Solomon Jennings was tired out before the Lehigh River was reached, and left the race to the other two, following for a time with some of the spectators. That night the walking party slept on the north side of the Lehigh Mountains. In the morning some of the white men hunted for the horses that had strayed from camp during the night, while others went to the village to ask the chief to send other Indians to accompany the white walkers. The chief answered angrily, "You have all the good land now, and you may as well take the bad, too." Another Indian, who had heard how the white men had raced along, trying to get as much land as possible, said disgustedly, "No sit down to smoke; no shoot squirrel; but lun, lun, lun, all day long!" The last half-day's walk had hardly begun when James Yeates dropped out, finding the exertion of such a rapid pace too much for him. Marshall, however, still pressed on, traveling very fast. When he passed the last of the trees that had been blazed to guide them, he took a compass held out to him by the surveyor general, who was riding, and kept his direction by its aid. At last the sheriff, looking at his watch, called out, "Halt!" Marshall threw himself forward, and grasped a sapling. That point then became the mark for the northern boundary of the purchase made many years before, a mark that was sixty-eight miles from the chestnut tree at the crossroads at Wrightstown, and close to the site of the present town of Mauch Chunk. The distance covered had been twice as great as the Indians had supposed it would be.