“The next thing is to find my pony,” thought Ralph. “Let’s see—which way did I come? Here are my tracks. I must have come out of that thicket yonder.”
Then, looking about him, he saw another line of tracks, and, going to examine it, perceived that it was where the boar had chased the black man across the morass. Most of the negro’s footprints were lost in those of the hog.
Almost at the moment in which Ralph reached his pony, he heard the report of a gun at some distance, and guessed that Mr. Arthur was coming in search of him. He answered the signal, and the planter, who had become anxious for his safety, soon made his appearance.
“I had begun to be really alarmed about you,” said Mr. Arthur, “and feared I should have to go back and summon assistance in the search. If you had not heard my gun, I should have missed you, for I was just about to turn in the opposite direction.”
“Oh, I am sorry I have given you all this trouble!” said Ralph. “It is too bad. But you can’t think what I have killed! I am glad you have come, so that I can show you.”
“Why, how wet and muddy you are!” said the planter, “and how your clothes are torn! For heaven’s sake! where have you been?”
Ralph related his adventure, and told how the black man had gone into the forest.
“I would not have had you take such a risk for all I am worth!” said Mr. Arthur. “What would your father say if he knew of it?”
“But the man couldn’t get away, and the boar might have got at him before I could have had a chance to bring any one else here,” replied Ralph.
“Yes, I know; but it was a fearful risk. No doubt the man was the runaway that I was speaking of to Mr. Osborne. At least, I should judge so from your description. Osborne would have detained him, of course; but I am not sorry that you made no such attempt. I should have been tempted to let him go myself.”