stopped,
they did the same; and when he trotted, they, true to their dog-like
nature, ran more rapidly in pursuit. How Rolf did wish for his long
rifle; but they gave no opportunity for a shot with the pistol. They
acted, indeed, as though they knew their safe distance and the exact
range of the junior gun. The scout made a trap for them by stealing back
after he had crossed a ridge, and hiding near his own trail. But the
wind conveyed a warning, and the wolves merely sat down and waited
till he came out and went on. All day long these two strange ban dogs
followed him and gave no sign of hunger or malice; then, after he
crossed a river, at three in the afternoon, he saw no more of them.
Years after, when Rolf knew them better, he believed they followed him
out of mild curiosity, or possibly in the hope that he would kill a deer
in which they might share. And when they left him, it was because they
were near the edge of their own home region; they had seen him off their
hunting grounds.

That night he camped sixty miles from Ticonderoga, but he was resolved
to cover the distance in one day. Had he not promised to be back in a
week? The older hands had shaken their heads incredulously, and he, in
the pride of his legs, was determined to be as good as his promise. He
scarcely dared sleep lest he should oversleep. At ten he lay down. At
eleven the moon was due to rise; as soon as that was three hours high
there would be light enough, and he proposed to go on. At least half
a dozen times he woke with a start, fearing he had overslept, but
reassured by a glance at the low-hung moon, he had slumbered again.

At last the moon was four hours high, and the woods were plain in the
soft light. A horned owl "hoo-hoo-ed," and a far-off wolf uttered
a drawn-out, soft, melancholy cry, as Rolf finished his dried meat,
tightened his belt, and set out on a long, hard run that, in the days of
Greece, would have furnished the theme of many a noble epic poem.

No need to consult his compass. The blazing lamp of the dark sky was his
guide, straight east his course, varied a little by hills and lakes, but
nearly the crow-flight line. At first his pace was a steady, swinging
stride; then after a mile he came to an open lake shore down which he
went at a six-mile trot; and then an alder thicket through which his
progress was very slow; but that soon passed, and for half a mile he
splashed through swamps with water a foot deep: nor was he sur