eeds, but,
at the same time, I must look to God for escape from the consekinces, if
He sees fit to let me escape. A man, bein' free, may drink himself into
a drunkard, but he's _not_ free to cure _himself_. He can't do it. The
demon Crave has got him by the throat, forces him to open his mouth, and
pours the fiery poison down. The thing that he is free to do is to
will. He may, if he chooses, call upon God the Saviour to help him; an'
my own belief is that no man ever made such a call in vain."

"How, if that be so, are we to account for the failure of those who try,
honestly strive, struggle, and agonise, yet obviously fail?"

"It's not for the like o' me, Mr Brooke, to expound the outs an' ins o'
all mysteries. Yet I will p'int out that you, what they call, beg the
question, when you say that such people `honestly' strive. If a man
tries to unlock a door with all his might and main, heart and soul,
honestly tries, by turnin' the key the wrong way, he'll strive till
doomsday without openin' the door! It's my opinion that a man may get
into difficulties of his own free-will. He can get out of them only by
applyin' to his Maker."

During the latter part of this conversation the hunters had risen and
were making their way through the trackless woods, when the scout
stopped suddenly and gazed for a few seconds intently at the ground.
Then he kneeled and began to examine the spot with great care. "A
footprint here," he said, "that tells of recent visitors."

"Friends, Ben, or foes?" asked our hero, also going on his knees to
examine the marks. "Well, now, I see only a pressed blade or two of
grass, but nothing the least like a footprint. It puzzles me more than
I can tell how you scouts seem so sure about invisible marks."

"Truly, if they was invisible you would have reason for surprise, but my
wonder is that you don't see them. Any child in wood-craft might read
them. See, here is the edge o' the right futt making a faint impression
where the ground is soft--an' the heel; surely ye see the heel!"

"A small hollow I do see, but as to its being a heel-print I could not
pronounce on that. Has it been made lately, think you?"

"Ay, last night or this morning at latest; and it was made by the futt
of Jake the Flint. I know it well, for I've had to track him more than
once an' would spot it among a thousand."

"If Jake is in the neighbourhood, wouldn't it be well to return to the
cave? He and some of hi