I believe McKay and the girl cannot be far away. Possibly they
have traveled more slowly than I thought, and haven't passed this
ridge; or it may be they are down there, in the plain. If so I
should catch sign of smoke or fire--in time."
For an hour he kept watch over the plain through his binoculars,
seeking for a wisp of smoke that might rise at any time over the
treetops. He did not lose sight of Peter, questing out in widening
circles below him. And then, quite unexpectedly, something
happened. In the edge of a tiny meadow an eighth of a mile away
Peter was acting strangely. He was nosing the ground, gulping the
wind, twisting eagerly back and forth. Then he set out, steadily
and with unmistakable decision, south and west.
In a flash Breault was on his feet, had caught up his pack, and
was running for the meadow. And there he found something in the
velvety softness of the earth which brought a grim smile to his
thin lips as he, too, set out south and west.
The scent he had found, hours old, drew Peter on until in the edge
of the dusk of evening it brought him to a foot-worn trail leading
to the Hudson's Bay Company post many miles south. In this path,
beaten by the feet of generations of forest dwellers, the hard
heels of McKay's boots had made their imprint, and after this the
scent was clearer under Peter's nose.
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