Allen was doubtful if the old hunter could pick up the trail after having once lost it, but in lieu of something better, he agreed to Watson's plan. Noel, of course, was willing to go wherever the others led.
It was high noon when Casey's Fork, a rough lot of rocks in a bend of the Umihalo Creek, was reached. Allen and Noel were glad enough to dismount in the shadow of the rocks while Ike Watson went off on a tour of inspection.
The old hunter was gone so long that Allen at last grew alarmed.
"Something is wrong, or he would be back ere this," he said. "Let us go after him."
But hardly had they mounted when they heard a shout ahead. Looking beyond a belt of bushes they saw Ike Watson waving his hand to them.
"Found it!" he cried as they came up. "They took the creek road over ter the forest trail. The marks are fresh, showin' they didn't move on until dark last night."
"Then they can't be many miles ahead!" cried Allen. "Oh, if we can only keep the trail till we catch up to them!"
"No time ter lose," said Ike Watson, and once more they continued the pursuit, this time faster than before.
Yet at the end of two miles they came to a sudden halt. The trail led down to the bank of a shallow stream and there disappeared from view.