Yet one feels he is afraid."

"He was afraid when he was ill; I wonder why. The fellow has no
religious or moral code. But he drinks hard and perhaps he's
superstitious."

"What is superstition?" the missionary asked with a smile. "The old
atavistic fear of the dark and the mysterious dangers that threatened
our savage ancestors? Or is it an instinctive knowledge that there are
supernatural powers, able to punish and reward?"

"I don't know," said Thirlwell, who mused and watched the smoke drift
past.

The bush was very quiet; he could hear nothing but the crackle of the
fire. Now and then a blaze leaped up and pierced the shadows among the
pine trunks. A few yards away, the trees got blurred and melted into the
encircling gloom. In one place, however, there was an opening, and when
he turned his back to the light, he saw a faint glimmer in the mist that
indicated the frozen lake. Although he was used to the wilds, he felt
the silence and desolation.

"It's easy to be superstitious here," he resumed. "One feels that human
power is limited and loses one's confidence. I expect something of the
kind accounts for Driscoll's nervous fears. In the city, he would have
no time to brood; he'd spend his days in a noisy workshop and his
evenings in a crowded tenement or saloon. But if he's scared of the dark
and loneliness, why doesn't he pull out?"

"Human nature's stubborn. A man with a compelling object may be afraid