Desmond had become a very expert woodsman; he and Brooks had been chased by Indians several times and had exchanged shots with one band.  They knew a cover in a crevice in the wall of rock which ran up abruptly each side of the gulch; from this spot they could survey and also make a good fight in an emergency.  They had good weapons, plenty of ammunition, and what was more, coolness, skill, and courage.  Desmond, especially, was a very cool-headed chap in times of danger; the use of firearms was not new to him, nor was the woodsman life altogether a novelty, for he had been raised in a very wild and desolate mountain region.

Quickly they stole to cover, although they believed it possible that they might have been seen, for they had absolute proof, well known to woodsmen, that if there were foes in the vicinity they had been discovered.  Once in their covert they lay low, and a few moments passed, when they beheld a solitary figure advancing slowly and very cautiously up the gulch, and as the figure came in the light of the fire Desmond, whose eyesight was very keen, said: 

“It’s a white man; he looks like a hunter; we will wait a moment or two, but I guess it is all right.”

The figure, meantime, with rifle poised, advanced very slowly and finally stood fully revealed close to the fire, and indeed he was a white man of strong and vigorous frame.

“I’ll go and meet him,” said Desmond; “you lay low here, rifle in hand ready to shoot in case he proves an enemy.”

“All right, lad, go ahead.”

Desmond stepped from his hiding-place and advanced toward the fire.  The stranger saw him, still held his position ready for offense or defense, and permitted Desmond to approach, and soon he discerned that the lad was a white man and he called: 

“Hail, friend!”

“Hail, to you,” replied the lad.

The two men approached and shook hands.  The hunter was a splendid specimen of physical manhood, and his face indicated honesty and good-nature.

“Are you alone here, lad?”

“No.”

“Where’s your comrade?”

Desmond made a sign, and Brooks stepped forth from the crevice and approached the fire.

“Hail, friend,” said the stranger hunter.

Brooks answered the salutation, the two men shook hands and the stranger said;

“What may be your business out here?”

“We’ll talk of that later on; but, stranger, you took great chances.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“In approaching the fire you were exposed; suppose the fire had been kindled by Indians?”

The woodsman laughed, and said: 

“I knew it was not an Indian’s fire.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“How is that?”

“They don’t create such a big blaze.  I knew white men were around, and men whom I need not fear, but I was on my guard all the same.”