Every one was delighted with the meek and obedient dog, and the fussing was accepted by him as his due, but he paid no attention to the numerous pats and endearing names given him as they walked along. Then they reached the open space where the log bounded the edge of the running water. It was about a hundred yards from the trail and distinctly visible because the brook was lower than the footpath where the scouts stood.
"There it is! I saw it!" exclaimed Joan, excitedly.
At the same moment Jake also saw something doubtful moving swiftly out of sight back of the log. The girls ran over to the bushes to see the better, and Julie's hold on the leash relaxed unconsciously. In that same second, Jake took mean advantage of her inattention to him and darted away.
"Oh, oh! Come back here, Jake!" yelled Julie instantly.
But the dog stood upon a rock, his ears erect, his nose sniffing as he pointed it in the direction of the log. His tail trembled spasmodically and the hair along his spine stood up stiffly.
"I say, to heel, Jake. Come back, to heel!" shouted every scout in the group. But Jake was deaf to their calls.
Then the Captain called to him, but he bounded from the rock and managed to force his way through the bushes, the leash catching here and there on stumps, on sharp rocks, or on bushes.
"What shall we do? Now he'll kill the little beaver!" wailed Betty, wringing her hands.
"Some one run back and get Gilly! He'll make him mind," ordered Julie.
"Who's Orderly for the Day? I want to wait and watch what he does," said Joan.