Almost at once they began to catch glimpses of wild life,—­a squirrel romping on a limb; or a long line of grouse, like children in school, perched on a fallen log.  The trapper had not yet laid his lines in this land, and the tracks of the little fur-bearers weaved a marvelous and intricate pattern on the moose trail.  Once a marten with orange throat peered at them from a covert, and once a caribou raced away, too fast for a shot.

Mostly the wild things showed little fear or understanding of the two humans.  The grouse relied on their protective coloration, just as when menaced by the beasts of prey.  An otter, rarely indeed seen in daylight, hovered a moment beside a little stream to consider them; and a coyote, greatest of all cowards, lingered in their trail until they were within fifty feet of his grey form, then trotted shyly away.

“We won’t starve for meat, that’s certain,” Ben informed her.  His voice was subdued; he had fallen naturally into the mood of quietness that dwells ever in the primeval forest.

Because the trail seemed to be leading them too far from the waterways, they took a side trail circling about a wooded hill.  Ever Ben studied the landmarks, looked carefully down the draws and tried to learn as much as possible of the geography of the country; and Beatrice understood his purpose with entire clearness.  He wished to locate his camp so that it would have every natural advantage and insurance against surprise attack.  He desired that every advantage of warfare be in his favor when finally he came to grips with Neilson and his men.

They crossed a low ridge, following down another of the thousand creeks that water the northern lands.  In a moment it led them to a long, narrow lake, blue as a sapphire in its frame of dusky spruce.

For a moment both of them halted on its bank, held by its virgin beauty.  Lost in the solitudes as it was, perhaps never before gazed upon by the eyes of men, still it gave no impression of bleakness and stagnation.  Rather it was a scene of scintillating life, vivid past all expression.  Far out of range on the opposite shore a huge bull moose stood like a statue in black marble, gazing out over the shimmering expanse.  Trout leaped, flashing silver, anywhere they might look; and a flock of loon shrieked demented cries from its center.  The burnished wings of a flock of mallard flashed in the air, startled by some creeping hunter.

Slowly, delighted in spite of themselves by the lovely spot, they followed along its shore.  They climbed the bank; and now Ben began to examine his surroundings with great care.

He had suddenly realized that he was in a region wonderfully fitted for his permanent camp.  The low ridge between the lake and the creek gave a clear view of a large part of the surrounding country, affording him every chance of seeing his enemies before they saw him.  If they came along the river—­the course they would naturally follow—­they would be obliged to cross the beaver marsh—­a half-mile of open grassland with no protecting coverts.  Beatrice saw, dismayed, that his gray eyes were kindling with unholy fire under his heavy, dark brows.