"
"Then you think, Sergeant, we should follow this trail?"
"Undoubtedly, sir, but we must look out for an ambush. These men know
the mountains thoroughly, and if we were to walk into their trap they
might cut us to pieces."
"Then we won't walk into it. Lead on, Sergeant. If the enemy is near,
I know that you will find him in time."
The sergeant's brown face flushed with pride, but he followed on the
trail without a word and behind him came the whole regiment, implicit in
its trust, and winding without noise like a great coiling serpent through
the forest.
Dick was a woodsman himself, and he kept close to the sergeant, watching
his methods, and seeking also what he could find. While they lost the
trail now and then, he saw the sergeant recover it in the openings.
He noted, too, that it was increasing in size. Little trails were
flowing into the big one like brooks into a river, and the main course
was uniformly south, but bearing slightly upward on the slope.
The sergeant stopped at the melancholy cry of an owl, apparently three
or four hundred yards ahead.
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