You,
Garry, keep stret down the old road with ten dogs and all the plunder--
we'll meet at night, I reckon.'
"No sooner said than done! the parties were sent off with the relays.
This was on Monday morning--Tom and I, and some thirteen others, with
eight couple of the best dogs, stuck to his slot on foot. It was two
hours at least, so long had he been gone, before a single hound spoke to
it, and I had begun well nigh to despair; but Tom's immense sagacity,
which seemed almost to know instinctively the course of the wily savage,
enabling us to cut off the angles of his course, at last brought us up
somewhat nearer to him. At about noon, two or three of the hounds
opened, but doubtfully and faintly. His slot, however, showed that they
were right, and lustily we cheered them on! Tom, marvelling the while
that we heard not the cry of Jem's relay.
"'For I'll be darned,' he said, 'if he hasn't crossed the road long
enough since; and that dumb nigger, Jem's not had the sense to stick to
him!'
"For once, however, the fat man was wrong; for, as it appeared when we
neared the road, the wolf had headed back, scared doubtless by some
injudicious noise of our companions, and making a wide ring, had crossed
three miles below the spot where Jem was posted.
Pages:
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228