And for three minutes the two of them were busily engaged writing descriptions in their scout’s note-book, with which every one in the patrol was provided; stopping now and then to examine or measure one of the tracks.
When this operation was concluded, much to the amusement of Thad and Allan, the forward movement was again resumed.
But it seemed as though this little incident must have aroused the curiosity and ambition of Giraffe and Step Hen, for they frequently asked questions that had more or less bearing on trailing.
And the information which Allan was able to give, in addition to what the scoutmaster said, quite enthused both searchers after facts.
“Say, I never thought there was so much in this trackin’ business,” Step Hen honestly admitted. “I used to believe it was pretty much of a fake, and that fellers just kind of went along, smellin’ out things, like a setter or a hound would. But now I see it’s a whole lot of fun; and I’m going in for trackin’. I am to be a champion trailer.”
“Look out there, fellers!” shouted Giraffe.
They saw him swing his gun around, and almost immediately discharge the heavy rifle. All of the others hastened to get their guns in a serviceable condition, even while they were looking to see what had happened to excite the tall scout.
Something flashed from one tree to another, and vanished amidst the dense growth of leaves. As this tree was close to others, the chances were that the animal would have little difficulty in eluding them.
“Wow! a big wildcat!” exclaimed Step Hen, in great excitement.
“Tell me, did you see his left hind leg drag just a little, when he landed on that limb?” asked Giraffe, eagerly.