all without
exception!

Rance, the guide, now that he was separated from his comrade, turned out
to be a capital fellow, and, during the remainder of the journey, did
much to make the travellers harmonise. The party now consisted of our
hero and Joe Graddy, Jeffson the Yankee, Douglas the Scot, Meyer the
German, and Bradling; all of whom, excepting the last, were good and
true men. As for Bradling, no one could make out what he was, for at
times he was amiable and polite, while at other times he was savage and
morose.

One night the travellers reached a part of the mountains which was
densely covered with wood. As there was no moon, and it was almost
impossible to see a step before them, Rance called a halt.

"We must sleep here," he said to Jeffson. "I had half expected to make
out Bigbear Gully to-night, but the road is not safe; too many
precipices and steep parts, which require to be passed in daylight."

"Very good, Rance; then we had better set about encamping."

"'Tis a dreary-looking place," said Frank Allfrey, glancing round him.

"'Twill look more cheery when the fire is kindled," said Jeffson.

"Dismal enough to give a man the blues just now, anyhow," observed Joe
Graddy.

This was undoubtedly true. There is, perhaps, nothing more desolate,
more cheerless, more oppressive to the spirits, than the influence of
the woods at night. They are so dark, so black-looking and dismal, that
one is led irresistibly to contrast them with home and its bright
fireside and well-remembered faces--just as the starving man is led by
his condition to dream of rich feasts. In both cases the result is the
same. The dream of food makes the starving man's case more terrible,
and the thought of home makes the dreariness of the dark wilderness more
dismal.

But what magic there is in a spark of light! The first burst of flame
drives all the sad lonesome feelings away, and the blaze of the
increasing fire creates positively a home-feeling in the breast. The
reason of this is plain enough. Before the fire is kindled the eye
wanders restlessly through the dim light that may chance to straggle
among the trees. The mind follows the eye, and gets lost among
indistinct objects which it cannot understand. The feelings and the
faculties are scattered--fixed upon nothing, except perhaps on this,
that the wanderer is far, very far, from home. But when the bright
glare of the fire springs up, everything beyond the circle