280 The Hunting Grounds 



After having rested some little time, Googooloo 

 and Naga took up the trail, and we continued the 

 pursuit. As they pressed forward, with bodies half- 

 bent and eyes gliding along the ground, they re- 

 minded one of hounds running by scent ; but, unlike 

 these, the trackers made no noise, seldom or never 

 speaking when on trail, and then only in a subdued 

 whisper. Tireless, used to constant warfare with the 

 elements and struggles with the wild denizens of the 

 forest, as the bloodhound loves the trail so did they, 

 and hunger, thirst, weariness, all must be felt to an 

 extreme degree before they would give it up. 



We continued the pursuit for many long and weary 

 hours, until at last night set in and arrested our pro- 

 gress, as the spoor was no longer to be discerned. 

 Halting simultaneously, we held a brief consultation 

 as to what was best to be done, and, after some 

 deliberation, my gang, who were all men of jungle 

 experience, and well-versed in forest signs, were 

 unanimous in their desire to follow up the trail by 

 torch-light, for it was yet early in the night, and 

 many hours must intervene before we should have 

 the light of the moon, as it would riot rise until nearly 

 midnight, and during this time the herd, which, from 

 the freshness of the spoor, were evidently not very far 

 ahead, might travel a long way. 



I therefore determined to be at once on their heels, 

 and lighting a large bull's-eye lanthorn (which one of 



