In a few seconds the hound stopped, uttered a short howl, and appeared to toss a dark object upon the grass with his snout. Basil and Lucien had halted at a considerable distance, but they could see that the object was some loose feathers.
“The spot, beyond doubt, where François has killed the turkey,” muttered Basil. “If Marengo can only catch the trail by which he rode off all may be well; but—that—that—see! he is off again!”
Now was the time that Basil and Lucien watched with beating hearts. They knew that a crisis was at hand. If Marengo, as Basil said, could find François’ departing trail, then he could follow it up almost to a certainty. Of this both the brothers were confident, as they knew the capabilities of the dog. But that was the point to be decided; and both felt for the moment as if the life of their brother hung upon its decision. No wonder, then, that they watched every manoeuvre of the hound with breathless anxiety while they sat, motionless and silent, in their saddles.
The hound after a while ran off from the feathers; and was seen once more to double and circle over the ground. He did not go freely. He was evidently baffled by so many trails approaching and crossing each other. Again he came back to the spot where the turkey had been killed, and there paused with a howl of disappointment!
Basil and his brother uttered a simultaneous exclamation, that betokened painful feelings. They knew that the howl was a bad sign; but neither spoke.
Once more the dog ran off, and as before turned and wheeled about upon the prairie.
“O God!” exclaimed Basil, in agony, “he is coming on the old track!”
It was too true; for the next moment the hound, running on the back-track, bounded in among the feet of their horses. Here he stopped suddenly, throwing up his head, and uttering another howl of disappointment.
Basil waved him back. He struck out again and followed the old trail, but with like success. He then became confused, and ran every way over the ground, evidently baffled. The brothers regarded each other with looks of dismay. The trail was lost!
“Hold! There is hope yet,” said Basil. “We may find it by making a wider circuit. Take my bridle,” continued he, throwing himself from his horse. “Marengo!—up, Marengo!”