CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
TRAILING WITH A BLOOD-HOUND.
They rode in a direct line to the spot where they had started in pursuitof the turkeys. From this place Francois had taken to the left; butthere were many tracks leading in the same direction--of horses, too,that had galloped.
"As I told you, brother," remarked Basil, "we could never have followedhis trail by the tracks. Even here we are not certain of it. Thesemust be his though--they look a little fresher than the others. Let ustry them. Marengo!"
"Stay, brother!" interrupted Lucien. "The last place I saw Francois wasyonder. I caught a glimpse of him passing round that point of timber."
"Ha! that is better. Perhaps, there his tracks may be separate from theothers. Come on!"
They rode about a hundred paces farther, which brought them to the pointof timber indicated by Lucien.
"Yes," exclaimed Basil, "you are right! He has passed here. There arehis tracks distinctly."
Basil dismounted, giving Lucien his rein. He knelt upon the grass, andexamined the hoof-prints, one after the other, with extreme care.
"So!" he muttered, as he rose again to his feet, "I shall know _you_among a thousand."
"Make yourself ready for a hard ride," he continued, addressing Lucien."The dog, no doubt, will lead us in a gallop. Marengo!"
The hound came running up to where the young hunter was stooping overthe trail. The latter held a red object in his arms. It was Francois'blanket, which he had loosed from his horse's flank, and flung away whenstarting on the chase. The dog scented the blanket, uttering as he didso a low whimper, and gazing in his master's face with a look ofintelligence. He seemed to comprehend what was required of him.
Basil now flung the blanket over his own saddle, stooped again, drew hisfingers along the grass, and, with a wave of his hand, motioned Marengoto follow its direction. The hound, uttering a single yelp, bent hisnose to the ground, and sprang forward upon the trail.
Basil instantly leaped into his saddle; and, snatching up the reins,cried out to his brother,--
"Come, Lucien! we must not lose sight of the dog, though our horses dropdead in their tracks! All depends upon keeping him in view."
Both plied the spur, and dashed forward at a gallop.
"We must know how to find our way back again," said Basil, reining up,as they passed the edge of one of the timber clumps. "We must notourselves get lost;" and, as he said this, he crashed the branch of atree, until the broken end hung dangling downward. He then resumed hisgallop.
For nearly a mile the hound ran in a direct line. It was the firstflight of the turkey. His course then altered, although not a greatdeal, and carried him half a mile or so in a direct line as before.
"The second flight," remarked Basil to his brother, as both followed ata loose gallop, now with their eyes anxiously watching the dog, and nowhalting a moment by some conspicuous tree to "blaze" their way, bybreaking one of its branches.
The dog at length entered a copse.
"Ha!" exclaimed Basil, "Francois has killed his turkey there. No," hecontinued--as the hound shot out of the copse again, and struck off intothe open plain--"no. It has sought shelter there, but it has been runout again, and gone farther."
Marengo now led in a direct line for several hundred paces; when, all atonce, he began to double and run in circling courses over the prairie.
"Draw up, Lucien! draw up!" cried Basil, as he pulled upon hisbridle-rein. "I know what that means. Do not ride upon the track--youmay baffle him--leave him to himself."
In a few seconds the hound stopped, uttered a short howl, and appearedto toss a dark object upon the grass with his snout. Basil and Lucienhad halted at a considerable distance, but they could see that theobject was some loose feathers.
"The spot, beyond doubt, where Francois has killed the turkey," mutteredBasil. "If Marengo can only catch the trail by which he rode off allmay be well; but--that--that--see! he is off again!"
Now was the time that Basil and Lucien watched with beating hearts.They knew that a crisis was at hand. If Marengo, as Basil said, couldfind Francois' departing trail, then he could follow it up almost to acertainty. Of this both the brothers were confident, as they knew thecapabilities of the dog. But that was the point to be decided; and bothfelt for the moment as if the life of their brother hung upon itsdecision. No wonder, then, that they watched every manoeuvre of thehound with breathless anxiety while they sat, motionless and silent, intheir saddles.
The hound after a while ran off from the feathers; and was seen oncemore to double and circle over the ground. He did not go freely. Hewas evidently baffled by so many trails approaching and crossing eachother. Again he came back to the spot where the turkey had been killed,and there paused with a howl of disappointment!
Basil and his brother uttered a simultaneous exclamation, that betokenedpainful feelings. They knew that the howl was a bad sign; but neitherspoke.
Once more the dog ran off, and as before turned and wheeled about uponthe prairie.
"O God!" exclaimed Basil, in agony, "he is coming on the old track!"
It was too true; for the next moment the hound, running on theback-track, bounded in among the feet of their horses. Here he stoppedsuddenly, throwing up his head, and uttering another howl ofdisappointment.
Basil waved him back. He struck out again and followed the old trail,but with like success. He then became confused, and ran every way overthe ground, evidently baffled. The brothers regarded each other withlooks of dismay. _The trail was lost_!
"Hold! There is hope yet," said Basil. "We may find it by making awider circuit. Take my bridle," continued he, throwing himself from hishorse. "Marengo!--up, Marengo!"
The dog obeyed the call, uttered in accents of command; and came runningup to the feet of his master. The latter, telling Lucien to follow withthe horses, struck off over the prairie.
He walked slowly, bent forward and downward, carefully observing theground as he went. He followed the circumference of an irregularcircle, of wide diameter--in order to keep outside the doublings whichFrancois had made in his last struggle after the wearied bird, and whichhad thrown the dog out. He passed several horse-trails leading variousways. All these he examined, but none satisfied him. In this manner hehad gone half a mile around the circle, when his eye fell upon some thatseemed fresher than the rest. He sprang forward, stooping over themwith, a shout of joy, as he recognised the hoof-prints of Francois'mustang. He knew them by a mark he had taken--where the dog had beenfirst set upon the trail--a small chip broken from one of the forehoofs. But Marengo needed not this. He was once more on the rightscent; and again started off, nose down, over the prairie.
Basil leaped into his saddle; and, waving his brother to follow,galloped after, riding close upon the heels of the hound.
The trail did not lead in a direct line. At some places it did so forseveral hundred yards--then it would turn suddenly to the right orleft--then turn again and again in zig-zag lines. Sometimes itdescribed the circumference of a circle and at one or two points itrecrossed itself. At these places the dog was once or twice nearlybaffled again.
They well knew the reason why the trail thus meandered about. PoorFrancois had been wandering, and knew not which way to go.
Once more the trail ran direct for a distance of two miles or more. Nodoubt Francois had there kept up his resolution and ridden straightforward; but, as Basil remarked, he had been travelling all the timewith his back to their camp! Over this part, as the trail was fresh,the hound ran rapidly, keeping the hunters at a brisk gallop. At theend of the stretch it again turned to the right and westward.
As they faced in this direction, the attention of the brothers wascalled to the sky. _The sun was setting_!
A new feeling of apprehension came over them. They knew there was notwilight, or next to none, on these high southern plateaux. Should itcome on a dark night, how were they to follow the dog, going as he wasu
pon a run? _He_ might still keep the trail and come up with Francois,but what would be the good of that, so long as _they_ were not with him?It would only give Francois another companion in his misery, but noclue by which he would be enabled to find _them_, or they _him_.
These thoughts were communicated between the two as they galloped onside by side. Soon the sun set, and the shades of twilight fell uponthe grass. It grew darker, until it was difficult to distinguish thedusky body of the hound passing over the sward. What was to be done?He would soon glide away from them, and leave them without a guide!
"I have it!" suddenly exclaimed Basil; and at the words he spurred hishorse forward to overtake Marengo. The next moment he flung himselffrom the saddle; and, seizing the hound, arrested him in his tracks.
"Alight, brother!" he cried; "alight, and help me. Off with yourshirt--it is whiter than mine."
Lucien, half comprehending his design, immediately pulled off hisblouse, and after that his shirt--which was of bleached cotton clothlightly striped, and in the dim light showed nearly white. Basil tookhold of it; and hurriedly tore off the sleeves. He then drew it uponthe dog; and having passed the animal's fore-feet through the arm-holes,tied the collar securely around his throat with a piece of thong, andknotted the skirts over the flanks behind. Thus arrayed, Marengo lookedlike a street monkey; and was rendered quite visible in the glimmeringdarkness.
"Now!" cried Basil, exultingly, "we can follow him if it were as dark aspitch."
"Stay a moment," said Lucien; "let us make sure. It is clear enough--Ican write yet." As Lucien said this, he took out his note-book, andwrote:--
"_Francois, come back on your own trail. You will find us upon it. Ifyou cannot follow it, let Marengo guide you_."
He tore out the leaf, handing it to Basil, who fastened it securely tothe shirt.
Marengo was again set loose, and took to the trail, while both mountedhastily and followed him.
Fortunately the night did not turn out so dark as they had anticipated;and they could see the white covering with sufficient distinctness toenable them to follow it, even at a gallop. And thus they rode fornearly another hour--Basil still blazing their trail as they swept pastthe timber islets.
All at once, as they rounded a thick grove, a bright object glistenedbefore their eyes. It was a blazing fire under the shadow of some talltrees! Marengo made straight for it. Fearing it might be an encampmentof Indians, Basil galloped forward; and, alighting from his horse,intercepted the dog. A halt was made to determine what was best to bedone. At that moment the fire blazed up, and a spotted object was seennear it. Hurrah! It was Francois' mustang! Basil and Lucien nowadvanced rapidly; and, to their great joy, beheld Francois sitting bythe fire holding something over the blaze. The next moment the brotherswere in each other's arms, all three weeping with joy as they embraced!
Francois soon related his adventures. He had killed his turkey, andthen lost himself; but instead of going back upon his own trail, asBasil had done, he had wandered about until night-fall, at intervalsshouting and firing his gun. At times his spirit failed him; and herode for long stretches without touching the bridle, or in any wayguiding his horse. Wearied at length, he dismounted, and tied theanimal to a tree. It was night when he did so; and feeling cold andhungry, he took courage and kindled a fire. Fortunately the gobblerstill hung from the cantle of his saddle; and he had just singed, andwas roasting it over the fire, when so agreeably interrupted by theapproach of his brothers. At sight of the fine broiling turkey, Basiland Lucien became as hungry as a pair of wolves--for, in consequence oftheir anxiety, they had not thought of dining. The roast was soonready; and, after a plentiful supper--which Marengo shared--the younghunters staked their horses upon the grass, wrapped themselves in theirblankets, and went to sleep.