No matter what they had suffered, they were a ruthless, merciless gang of cut-throats and thieves, fleeing from justice, deserving of no consideration.

Yet their distressed appearance, their lack of vigilance, rendered him careless.

They seemed too weak to resist, too exhausted to fight; the cold plucking at their hearts had seemingly already conquered.

It was this impression which caused him to act recklessly, rising to his feet, rifle in hand, directly in their track, halting their advance with stern command.
"Hands up! Quick now, the three of you! Don't wait, Dupont; I 've got the drop!" The white man was in front, a huge, shapeless figure in his furs, his black beard frosted oddly.

He stood motionless, astounded at this strange apparition in blue cavalry overcoat, which had sprung up so suddenly in that wilderness.