and north of where the Loyalists were encamped on the A-jem-sek. Up
hill and down he sped, pausing not for an instant, with powerful
swinging strides that would have tested even Pete's great endurance.
That he had been travelling since early morning, with the exception of
his brief stay at the cabin, seemed to make no difference to him.
Davidson had made no mistake in choosing such a man as his chief ranger.

Hour after hour he sped onward through the silent, sombre forest. The
wind increased in violence, and the trees swayed and creaked as the
tempest tore through their branches. The storm was not far off, and
might burst at any minute.

Reaching at length the summit of a hill, he paused to eat some of the
cold meat and a piece of the bread Old Mammy had given him that
morning. He was about to continue his journey when the report of a gun
rang through the forest. The sound issued from valley below, reminding
him that the slashers must be quite near. Cautiously now he moved down
the hill, peering keenly ahead, not knowing what to expect next. In a
few minutes a glimmer of light filtered among the trees, showing that
the rebels were camped by a little brook which ran through the valley.
As he slowly advanced, the light became brighter, until presently a
blazing camp-fire burst upon his eyes. Around this the slashers were
ringed, jabbering and quarrelling in an excited manner. What they were
saying Dane could not tell, but as he crept nearer, moving from tree to
tree, he saw a human body lying in the snow a short distance from the
fire. That it was one of the slashers he felt certain, and the
explanation of the shot he had heard. He was not surprised at this,
for he knew a great deal about the brutal and inhuman nature of these
creatures. They disgusted him, and he was more determined than ever to
round them up and put an end to their lawless career. There before him