erected no doubt by some lonely squatter who had no desire to be discovered, and stood squarely against the steep side of the hill. Apparently there was no rear opening, and the single door in front was securely closed. The end toward us, however, contained a narrow window, unprotected even by glass, and its wooden shutter hung dejectedly on one hinge. No smoke arose above the tottering chimney, and the whole place appeared a deserted wreck.
"Wait here until I get a closer view," I whispered. "I shall be within sight all the time."
"Surely no one lives there."
"No; the place must have been deserted for years, but someone has been up this way within a few hours. It is best to be sure."
She stood motionless as I went crouching forward, keeping well to the front of the cabin until I was safely against the wall. Without venturing to try the door I raised myself cautiously on the end of a projecting log, and peered in through the slit of a window. As the only light reaching that interior found entrance through this narrow opening I found some difficulty at first in distinguishing objects within. I had to thrust my head well forward in order to see at all, and then, slowly as my eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom, I picked out various objects. The cabin was not deserted in
