ever looked
through the hind-sights of a rifle. Who the little man might turn out
to be, I could not guess--though I was not without some recollections of
a figure resembling his. I remembered a certain Patrick, who was also a
"mimber of the corpse," and whose _build_ bore a close resemblance to
that of him seen between the trams of the barrow. My conjecture as to
who the men were, increased my desire to overtake them. If the tall man
should turn out to be Sure-shot, a rifle would be added to our strength
worth a dozen ordinary guns; and, considering the risk we were running--
in danger of losing our scalps every hour in the day--it was of no small
importance that we should join company with the deserters.

We made every exertion, therefore, to come up with them--my comrade
employing all the lore of the backwoods, in his effort to recover their
traces. The new footmarks we had discovered, though lost the instant
after, had served one good purpose. They indicated the general
direction which the two men had followed; and this was an important
point to be ascertained. We found another index in the trees. These in
most places stood thickly together; and it was only here and there that
an object of such breadth as a wheelbarrow could pass _conveniently_
between their trunks. Carried upon the shoulders, it would be an
awkward load with which to squeeze through any tight place; and it was
reasonable to conclude that only the more open aisles of the forest
would be followed. This enabled us to make pretty sure of the route
taken; and, after trusting to such guidance for several hundred yards,
we had the satisfaction to light once more upon the shoe-tracks. Again
only a short distance were we able to follow them; but they confirmed
our belief that we were still on the right trail. My comrade had
suggested that the man who carried the barrow "wud soon tire o' totin'
it:" and this proved to be the case. On striking into an old
buffalo-path, our eyes were once more gladdened by the sight of the
wheel-track--plainly imprinted in the mud.

"Our prospecting" was for the time at an end. The barrow-track
continued along the buffalo-path; and we were able to follow it, almost
as fast as our legs could carry us. Even after it had grown too dark
for us to see the track of the wheel, we were not disconcerted. We
could follow it by the _feel_--stooping only at intervals to make sure
that it was still among our feet. In this