They had traveled a mile through forest unbroken by path or road when Neil halted on the edge of a little stream that ran into a swamp.

Pointing into the tangled fen with a confident smile he plunged to his waist in the water and waded slowly through the slough into the gloom of the densest alder.
A few minutes later he turned in to the shore and the soft bog gave place to firm ground.

Before Nathaniel had cleared the stream he saw his companion drop to his knees beside a fallen log and when he came up to him he was unwrapping a piece of canvas from about a gun.

With a warning gesture he rose to his feet and for twenty seconds the men stood and listened.

No sound came to them but the chirp of a startled squirrel and the barking of a dog in the direction of St.James.
"They haven't turned out the dogs yet," said Neil, holding a hand against his heaving chest.