they must be right.

Henry and Ross slipped away into the undergrowth, and Henry soon noticed
that the guide's face, which was tense and preoccupied, seemed graver
than usual. The boy was too wise to ask questions, but after they had
searched through the forest for several hours Ross remarked in the most
casual way:

"I heard the gobble of a wild turkey away off last night."

"Yes," said Henry, "there are lots of 'em about here. You remember the
one I shot Tuesday?"

Ross did not reply just then, but in about five minutes he vouchsafed:

"I'm looking for the particular wild turkey I heard last night."

"Why that one, when there are so many, and how would you know him from
the others if you found him?" asked Henry quickly, and then a deep
burning flush of shame broke through the tan of his cheeks. He, Henry
Ware, a rover of the wilderness to ask such foolish questions! A child
of the towns would have shown as much sense. Ross who was looking
covertly at him, out of the corner of his eye, saw the mounting blush,
and was pleased. The boy had spoken impulsively, but he knew better.

"You understand, I guess," said Ross.

"Yes," replied Henry, "I know why you want to find that wild turkey, and
I know why you said last night we ought to leave the salt springs just
as soon as we can."

The smile on the face of the scout brightened. Here was the most
promising pupil who had ever sat at his feet for instruction; and now
they redoubled their caution, as their soundless bodies slipped through
the undergrowth. Everywhere they looked for the trail of that wild
turkey. It may be said that a turkey can and does fly in the air and
leaves no trail, but Henry knew that the one for which they looked might
leave no trail, but it did not fly in the air.

Time passed; noon and part of the afternoon were gone, and they were
still curving in a great circle about the camp, when Ross, suddenly
stopped beside a little brook, or branch, as he and his comrades always
called them, and pointed to the soft soil at the edge of the water.
Henry followed the long finger and saw the outline of a footstep.

"Our turkey has passed here."

The guide nodded.

"Most likely," he said, "and if not ours, then one of the same flock.
But that footprint is three or four hours old. Come on, we'll follow
this trail until it grows too warm."

The footsteps led down the side of the brook, and when they curved away
from it Ross was able to trace them on