The forest was too thick for a man to run with any real speed, so the hunters managed to stay close behind their quarry without expending too much energy.
"I wonder what he looked like," Karsten said they pushed their way through the thick underbrush. "I didn't get a good look at him."
"Neither did I," Thurman replied, grabbing hold of a vine to pull himself over a dead tree that stood in their path. "I hope he isn't just an ordinary criminal. I've got enough black stripes at home as it is."
"Look out!" Karsten cried suddenly. "He's doubling back on us!"
The two men turned rapidly and set off in a new direction, attempting to head off their quarry before he could make his way to open ground. They managed to get in between him and the edge of the woods and were rewarded by seeing a brief ripple of white as the naked man turned and started back towards the center of the little forest.
"Good work," said Thurman.
Most of the time they tracked him simply by listening to the directions the noise of his running came from. Often they were close enough at his heels to get a quick glimpse of flesh in the distance—an arm, a leg, or part of his back. They got their first good look at him when they came out from behind a rock into a little clearing. The quarry was just disappearing into the forest on the other side of the open space.
"Red stripes!" cried Karsten as they rushed across the clearing. "He's a subversive. Now, that is luck."
"Looks awfully small to me," said Thurman, "whatever he is."
"Damn. You don't suppose it could be a woman, do you?" Karsten asked somewhat breathlessly. "We only got a glimpse of it."