er trail, leading in a short
distance. The footprints followed it as far as it went, and the brother
followed the footprints, the red glare of the torch foreshortening each
swollen, gray-white cypress-trunk, and giving to the dark, hidden pools
below bright gleamings which they never had by day. He soon came to the
end of the trail; here he stopped and shouted loudly several times, with
pauses between for answer. No answer came.

"But I know the trick of this thick air," he said to himself. "One can't
hear anything in a cypress-swamp."

He was now obliged to search closely for the footprints, pausing at each
one, having no idea in which direction the next would tend. The soil did
not hold the impressions well; it was not mud or mire, but wet, spongy,
fibrous, black earth, thinly spread over the hard roots of trees, which
protruded in distorted shapes in every direction. He traced what seemed
footmarks across an open space, and then lost them on the brink of a
dark pool. If Carl had kept on, he must have crossed this pool; but how?
On the sharp cypress-knees standing sullenly in the claret-colored
water? He went all around the open space again, seeking for footmarks
elsewhere; but no, they ended at the edge of the pool. Cutting a long
stick, he made his way across by its aid, stepping from knee-point to
knee-point. On the other side he renewed his search for the trail, and
after some labor found it, and went on again.

He toiled forward slowly in this way a long time, his course changing
often; Carl's advance seemed to have been aimless. Then, suddenly, the
footprints ceased. There was not another one visible anywhere, though he
searched in all directions again and again. He looked at his watch; it
was midnight. He hallooed; no reply. What could have become of the lad?
He now began to feel his own fatigue; after the long day of toil in the
hot sun, these hours of laboring over the ground in a bent position,
examining it inch by inch, brought on pains in his shoulders and back.
Planting the torch he was carrying in the soft soil of a little knoll,
he placed another one near it, and sat down between the two flames to
rest for a minute or two, pouring out for himself a little brandy in the
bottom of the cup belonging to his flask. He kept strict watch as he did
this. Venomous things, large and small, filled the vines above, and
might drop at any moment upon him. But he had quick eyes and ears, and
no intention of dying in