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 He had gone scarcely a mile before his quick scent detected a smokiness in the atmosphere. He thought, at first, that it might be occasioned by the fires of the loggers. He was very fleet of foot, and an hour's walk carried him into the midst of the forest, a distance of three and a half miles from Sibley's Corner. Here he came upon three small, rough huts, standing near each other. They were thickly surrounded by tall trees, mostly pine and hemlock, which afforded him excellent shelter from the falling rain, and also allowed him to approach very near the huts without fear of being discovered.

Lights gleamed through the loosely boarded walls, and sounds of loud laughter, interspersed with foul oaths and doggerel songs, rang out on the still, night air. The youth approached so near one of the huts as to observe the movements of the inmates, and hear their conversation. They spoke in French, but the young man under stood this as well as he did his own tongue.