A hundred yards to the left rose a pile of rocks, the highest of which reached an altitude of two hundred feet or more. Upon the crest of one of the lower rocks, which had only a slight height, the immense dog stood in plain sight. It looked as if he had started to ascend the rocks, when he discovered the party and paused to learn their business.
The picture was a striking one. The enormous size of the brute gave the impression at first that he was a wolf or some wild animal that had challenged the advance of the four men. This error would have been made had not each been so familiar with the creature. As he stood, his formidable head raised, his forequarters being slightly higher than the remainder of his body, his position was diagonal. He was surveying his acquaintances, who surveyed him in turn with equal curiosity.
Vose Adams’s heart sank. What was the meaning of this? As he viewed it, the presence of the dog could have no other significance than that the lieutenant and Nellie Dawson were close at hand. Timon was in their company and would not have strayed far, so that he had betrayed them. From some cause, which the guide 297 could not comprehend, Lieutenant Russell had made a change of plan and placed himself almost in the path along which Vose was leading the pursuers, in the belief that the fugitives were at a safe distance.
The four men looked at the dog for several moments in silence, when the captain spoke:
“We must be very near them.”
“You’re dead right,” added Ruggles in the same undertone; “we’ve got ’em cornered sooner than we expected.”
“They can’t go far,” said the parson, “without being stopped by the rocks, when we shall have them in the nicest trap that was ever set for any game.”
The reflection of Vose Adams was of a different nature.
“If they make fools of themselves and upset all my plans, what can I do to help ’em? Why didn’t they stay where they promised to stay, and why didn’t they kill that blamed dog afore he played this trick on ’em?”
Timon stood for two or three minutes so immovable that he suggested a stone image of himself, carved out of the rock on which he was perched. Then he emitted a single husky bark and leaped lightly down from where he had been standing. It was no more than a dozen feet, and he alighted as gracefully as a panther. He trotted part way to the horsemen, who were closely watching his movements, stopped, barked again 298 and wheeling, trotted forward over precisely the course Vose Adams was taking when checked by the appearance of the canine.