crept cautiously forward, and then stopped but a bow-shot away. Here
they remained as silent and rigid as the great trees, keenly observing
all that was taking place before them.

Near the fire about twenty-five men were gathered, talking in the most
animated manner. They were an evil-looking group of creatures, dirty,
unshaven, their clothes ill-fitting and torn. They formed the dregs of
the wild, lower than the Indians and the dumb beasts of the trails.
They were parasites, a menace to law and order. Honor was unknown
among them, and the purity of such a girl as Jean Sterling only aroused
the base passions within them. The rangers they feared, as well as the
Indians who were loyal to King George. They were cunning woodsmen,
subtle as the serpent, and sly as the fox. They were hard to catch,
being in one place to-day, and miles away the next. When food was
plentiful they were gluttons, but when it was scarce they starved for
days. They had a craze for rum, and when drunk they were ugly, maudlin
brutes. They were fond of a fight, and fought like demons on the
slightest pretext.

Only one thing seriously affected them, and that was a superstitious
fear. It hounded them wherever they went, as is so often the case with
low, base minds. They had signs many, in the heavens above and the
earth beneath, and to these were slaves. Therefore, when they saw Seth
Lupin lying dead on the bank of the river with the marks of the
clutching fingers upon his throat, some trembled with fear, and glanced
apprehensively around. It was the work of the devil, so they said, and
they were anxious to leave the place. Others, however, scoffed at
them, declaring it was none other than Sam, the ranger, who had been
seen lurking in the vicinity that very day. These latter by threats
had induced the fearsome ones to accompany them into the wilderness