“Well, we are going to do something in the patrin line this afternoon,” put in Sybil. “It’s much the same thing. You must all learn by following some definite clues, for we don’t want one of you, even a mascot, to get lost in a wood again. Eve and Lilian are going to lay down ‘sign,’ or patrin, or whatever you like to call it, and you four are to follow the scent. They have started already and are laying trail, and you must try to follow on, after they have had a fair start, and track them. Try to track the way they went by noticing any scraps of ‘sign’ they may leave; not only over the next two ridges of the moor, but all the way, try to keep exactly on their trail. It is a very simple test, and you may have an hour for it. Then come back here and bring reports. Afterwards, Eve will go over the ground with you and tell you what you have missed and where you went wrong. Remember to ‘hasten slowly’; you will miss a lot, possibly, by hurrying.”
The four started off.
It was glorious. The sun blazed down from overhead; the grass was baking underfoot. Betty’s eyes were wide with eagerness as she and Gerry made their way off together. Eve was even now returning behind the second ridge: and they were to bring back an account of every bit of “sign” she had left en route. The first “scent” was a footprint, imbedded deeply, and evidently on purpose, in a piece of upturned turf. Gerry, Mona, and Rene discovered it in chorus.
“Pointing east. She’s gone that way. Is it Eve’s or Lilian’s?”
“Lilian is wearing tackets in her boots and Eve isn’t, I noticed. The footprint must be Eve’s.”
On they went.
There followed, with a yard or two between, more and more traces of “sign”—a tiny bit of paper crumpled up, which proved to be half of an envelope addressed to Lilian; a tiny scrap of patrol ribbon; more footprints; a lock of Eve’s hair!
On and on went the practice. Suddenly, just as the top of the second ridge was reached, Mona, who was a pace ahead, gave a little shout.
“Rene, I say.”
“What is it?” called Gerry.