Beyond, extended a tract of chalk prairie; over which one of the horsemen appeared to have passed—him without the head.
Zeb guessed so, by seeing the other, at some distance before him, riding to and fro, in transverse stretches, like a pointer quartering the stubble in search of a partridge.
He too had lost the trail, and was endeavouring to recover it.
Crouching under cover of the mezquites, the hunter remained a silent spectator of his movements.
The attempt terminated in a failure. The chalk surface defied interpretation—at least by skill such as that of Cassius Calhoun.
After repeated quarterings he appeared to surrender his design; and, angrily plying the spur, galloped off in the direction of the Leona.
As soon as he was out of sight, Zeb also made an effort to take up the lost trail. But despite his superior attainments in the tracking craft, he was compelled to relinquish it.
A fervid sun was glaring down upon the chalk; and only the eye of a salamander could have withstood the reflection of its rays.
Dazed almost to blindness, the backwoodsman determined upon turning late back; and once more devoting his attention to the trail from which he had been for a time seduced.
He had learnt enough to know that this last promised a rich reward for its exploration.