"We could cross the creek and go into Boyle's bush," suggested the Woodpecker. "We're like to strike anything there. Larry de Neuville swears
he saw a Unicorn there the night he came back from Garney's wake."
"How can you tell the kind of game by the Dog's barking?" asked Yan.
"H-m!" answered Caleb, as he put a fresh quid in his lantern jaw. "You surely can if you know the country an' the game an' the Dog. Course, no two Dogs is alike; you got to study your Dog, an' if he's good he'll larn you lots about trailing."
[446] The brook was nearly dry now, so they crossed where they would. Then feeling their way through the dark woods with eyes for the most part closed, they groped toward Boyle's open field, then across it to the heavy timber. Turk had left them at the brook, and, following its course till he came to a pool, had had a bath. As they entered the timber tract he joined them, dripping wet and ready for business.
"Go ahead, Turk," and again all sat down to await the opinion of the expert.
It came quickly. The old Hound, after circling about in a way that seemed to prove him independent of daylight, began to sniff loudly, and gave a low whine. He followed a little farther, and now his tail was heard to 'tap, tap, tap' the brush as he went through a dry thicket.
"Hear that? He's got something this time," said Caleb in a low voice. "Wait a little."
The Hound was already working out a puzzle, and when at last he got far enough to be sure, he gave a short bark. There was another spell of