"It is the habit of my people," he answered.  "We never can tell whether our foes may be before us or tracking our footsteps.  I noticed that some one besides you and your young friend and the black has passed this way lately.  He wore moccasins, and may therefore be a red man and an enemy; but I have just discovered that he is one of your people, and has a load on his shoulders.  Observe that soft ground; his feet sank deeper into it than would have been the case had he been unencumbered.  He is either an old man, or overcome with fatigue.  He cannot be very far before us, and is going in the direction of your hut."  Kepenau pointed as he spoke to some mossy ground, where I could just distinguish a faint outline of the footsteps of a man; but I should have been unable to read anything beyond that fact from the marks left behind.