my of a character far different from
those harmless boys who could not hit a mark smaller than the side of
a hill. These men would follow doggedly, persistently into the highest
of the hills, saving themselves, but never letting the prey slip from
their sight, dividing the hill men, separating them, cornering them
until they should have tracked them down one by one and either
captured or killed them all.

These men did not attempt to advance along the line of the road. They
stepped quickly out into the undergrowth and began spreading a thin
line of men to either side.

Then he saw that the third train, although they were soldiers, took
their lesson from the men who had just preceded them. They left the
tracks and spreading still farther out took up the wings of a long
line that was now stretching east to west along the fringe of the
hills. The soldiers in the centre retired a little way down the
roadbed, stood bunched together for a little time while their officers
evidently conferred together, then left the road by twos and fours and
began spreading out and pushing the other lines out still farther. It
was perfect and systematic work, he agreed, that could not have been
better done if he and his companions had planned it for their own
capture.

There were easily eight hundred men there in front, he judged; men
well armed and ready for an indefinite stay in the hills, with a
railroad at their back to bring up supplies, and with the entire State
behind them. And the State was ready to send more and more men after
these if it should be necessary. He had no doubt that hundreds of
other men were being held in readiness to follow these or were perhaps
already on their way. He saw the end.

Those lines would sweep up slowly, remorselessly and surround his men.
If they stood together they would be massacred. If they separated they
would be hunted down one by one.

Their only chance was to scatter at once and ride back to where their
homes had been. This time he implored them to take their chance,
begged them to save themselves while they could. But he might have
known that they would do nothing of the kind. Already they were
breaking away and spreading out to meet that distending line in front
of them. Nothing short of a miracle could now save them from
annihilation, and Jeffrey Whiting was not expecting a miracle. There
was nothing to be done but to take command and sell his life along
with theirs as dearly as possible