He stood upright in his saddle, and began looking carefully around. Presently, he got down.
"Nothing," he said.
At this moment, he saw something glistening in the grass, on the river bank.
"What is that?" he asked himself, and bent down. But, instead of rising again, he bent lower still, and in a second turned to Curumilla.
"The moccasin," he said, sharply.
The Indian handed it to him.
"Look!" the hunter said.
At this spot the sand was damp, and, under a pile of leaves, there appeared clearly and distinctly the trace of a man's foot, with the toes in the water.
"They are only two hours ahead of us," said Valentine. "One of them lost a horse bell here."
"They have crossed the river," said Eagle-wing.