quent traffic
round it, and a path had gradually been worn into visibility between the
tent and the cook-house; but beyond that everything was as fresh and
trackless as upon the day of their landing. Then it occurred to Leslie
to seek for traces of Flora's footprints in the grass, and he started to
carefully quarter the ground beyond the worn area in the neighbourhood
of the tent, carefully examining it with the aid of the lantern. And in
this way he presently discovered one or two imprints of the heels of her
boots, but it proved impossible to follow the track for more than half a
dozen yards; moreover, upon a further search he found so many, leading
in such a number of different directions, that he soon realised the
impossibility of determining which of them he ought to follow. And all
the time that he was thus engaged he never ceased to whistle and call
Sailor, varying the proceedings occasionally by shouting the name of
Flora, until he was so hoarse that he could scarcely articulate.

In this laborious and painfully unsatisfactory fashion he spent the
entire night, carefully quartering the ground until he had covered the
whole area between Mermaid Head on the one hand and Cape Flora on the
other, and extending rearward toward the mountain to about a quarter of
its height. The magnitude of such an enterprise as this, and its
exhausting nature, can only be appreciated by those who have attempted a
similar feat in a country overgrown with bush.

By the time that the sun had risen and Leslie was able to dispense with
the aid of the lantern, he was so utterly weary that he could scarcely
drag one leg after the other; his lips were so dry that he could no
longer whistle, and his throat so sore that he could no longer shout,
while he was sinking with exhaustion from hunger and thirst. Yet he
pressed doggedly on, still prosecuting his search with grim
determination and the same concentration as before until, close upon
midday--when he was working over toward the eastern side of the island,
he paused suddenly and listened as intently as though his life depended
upon it. Yes; there it was again--the distant but faintly heard bark of
a dog--he was sure of it! Gathering himself together, he once more
strove to whistle, but failed; then he attempted to shout.

"Sailor! _Sailor_!! Sailor!!!"

He lifted up his voice in a steady crescendo until the last cry became a
hoarse, cracked yell that was as unlike his own full,