Their height and strength, their long, sender barreled rifles, and their deerskin attire made them highly picturesque figures.

The motley population of New Orleans was used to all kinds of people, armed or unarmed, but generally armed.

These, however, were different.

They bore themselves with dignity, there was about them an air of absolute simplicity and honesty, and they kept close together in a manner that indicated a faithful brotherhood, closer even than the brotherhood of blood.

They seemed to come from another world than that which furnished so many desperate adventurers and former galley slaves to New Orleans.
Henry noticed the attention that they were attracting, and he did not like it.
"Perhaps, boys, we'd better go back to our boat," he said.
But before any one could answer he was tapped lightly on the arm and, turning about, he saw the small, trim figure of Lieutenant Diego Bernal, who had been the first man to greet them as they entered New Orleans.
"We met on the water, as you know," said the little lieutenant, smiling in a friendly manner.