"Their village was on fire; they had run into the forest, and during the night they had come down to the river, stretching out their hands, and crying piteously for bread.

As they were mostly women and children, our captain allowed them to cross, and has had a few loaves cut up for them.

They are half famished.

After them came larger bodies, all crying 'Bread! bread!' and wringing their hands.
We fired off a few pistol-shots over their heads, and soon scattered them." "Ha!" said Anton, "this is a poor prospect for us and our journey.

But what will become of these unfortunate creatures ?" "They are only border rascals," said the watchman, soothingly.