arrested his movement.

He had ears as sharp as those of an ambushed Indian, and he
detected in a moment that the men who were approaching the clearing
were of his own nationality. The words he could not hear, but he
could distinguish the intonation. It was not the rapid,
thin-sounding French tongue; it was English--he was certain of it!
And a light leaped to his eyes at the bare thought of meeting a
brother countryman in this desolate place.

Probably it was some other settler, one of that hardy race that
fringed the colony on its western frontier. Miles and miles of
rolling forest lay between these scattered holdings, and since war
was but lately begun, nothing had been done for the protection of
the hapless people now becoming an easy prey of the Indians stirred
up to molest them.

Humphrey knew none of their neighbours. Forest travelling was too
difficult and dangerous to tempt the settler far away from his own
holding. If it were one of these coming now, most likely he too had
suffered from attack or fear of attack, and was seeking a friend in
the nearest locality.

He stood like one spellbound, watching and waiting. The sound of
steps drew nearer to the fringe of obscuring forest trees; the
sound of voices became plainer and more plain. In another minute
Humphrey saw them--two bronzed and stalwart men--advancing from the
wood into the clearing. They came upon it unawares, as was plain
from their sudden pause. But they were white men; they were
brothers in this wild land. There was something like a sob in