He noticed too that his manners at the table were those of a gentleman.
After supper they packed their stuff over the long portage, leaving their tent and sleeping gear, with their food, however, to be taken in the morning.

For a long time they sat over the fire, Barry reading, for McCuaig's benefit, the newspaper accounts of the Belgian atrocities, the story of the smashing drive of the German hosts, and the retreat of the British army from Mons.
"What," exclaimed McCuaig, "the British soldiers goin' back! Runnin' away from them Germans!" "Well, the Germans are only about ten to one, not only in men but in guns, and in this war it's guns that count.

Guns can wipe out an army of heroes as easily as an army of cowards," said Duff.
"And them women and children," said McCuaig.

"Are they killing them still ?" "You're just right, they are," replied Duff, "and will till we stop them." McCuaig's eyes were glowing with a deep inner light.

They were wonderful eyes, quick, darting, straight-looking and fearless, the eyes of a man who owes his life to his vigilance and his courage.
Before turning in for the night, Barry went to the river's edge, and stood looking up at the stars holding their steadfast watch over the turbulent and tossing waters below.
"Quiet, ain't they ?" said a voice at his shoulder.
"Why, you startled me, Mr.McCuaig; I never heard you step." McCuaig laughed his quiet laugh.
"Got to move quietly in this country," he said, "if you are going to keep alive." A moment or so he stood by Barry's side, looking up with him at the stars.
"No fuss, up there," he said, interpreting Barry's mood and attitude.
"Not like that there pitchin', tossin', threatenin' water." "No," said Barry, "but though they look quiet, I suppose if we could really see, there is a most terrific whirling of millions of stars up there, going at the rate of thousands of miles a minute." "Millions of 'em, and all whirlin' about," said McCuaig in an awe-stricken voice.