as he rose again to his feet, "I shall know _you_
among a thousand."

"Make yourself ready for a hard ride," he continued, addressing Lucien.
"The dog, no doubt, will lead us in a gallop. Marengo!"

The hound came running up to where the young hunter was stooping over
the trail. The latter held a red object in his arms. It was Francois'
blanket, which he had loosed from his horse's flank, and flung away when
starting on the chase. The dog scented the blanket, uttering as he did
so a low whimper, and gazing in his master's face with a look of
intelligence. He seemed to comprehend what was required of him.

Basil now flung the blanket over his own saddle, stooped again, drew his
fingers along the grass, and, with a wave of his hand, motioned Marengo
to follow its direction. The hound, uttering a single yelp, bent his
nose to the ground, and sprang forward upon the trail.

Basil instantly leaped into his saddle; and, snatching up the reins,
cried out to his brother,--

"Come, Lucien! we must not lose sight of the dog, though our horses drop
dead in their tracks! All depends upon keeping him in view."

Both plied the spur, and dashed forward at a gallop.

"We must know how to find our way back again," said Basil, reining up,
as they passed the edge of one of the timber clumps. "We must not
ourselves get lost;" and, as he said this, he crashed the branch of a
tree, until the broken end hung dangling downward. He then resumed his
gallop.

For nearly a mile the hound ran in a direct line. It was the first
flight of the turkey. His course then altered, although not a great
deal, and carried him half a mile or so in a direct line as before.

"The second flight," remarked Basil to his brother, as both followed at
a loose gallop, now with their eyes anxiously watching the dog, and now
halting a moment by some conspicuous tree to "blaze" their way, by
breaking one of its branches.

The dog at length entered a copse.

"Ha!" exclaimed Basil, "Francois has killed his turkey there. No," he
continued--as the hound shot out of the copse again, and struck off into
the open plain--"no. It has sought shelter there, but it has been run
out again, and gone farther."

Marengo now led in a direct line for several hundred paces; when, all at
once, he began to double and run in circling courses over the prairie.

"Draw up, Lucien! draw up!" cried Basil, as he pulled upon his
bridle-rein. "I know what that means. Do