“You see?” said Hervey to the girl.
“He won’t be satisfied till there’s
a killing!”
“Keep them back!” she pleaded. “Don’t
let them go, Mr. Hervey. Don’t let them
follow him!”
One sharp, short order from Hervey stopped the foremost
as they ran for the entrance. In fact, not one
of them was peculiarly keen to follow such a trail
as this in the darkness. Breathless silence fell
over the patio, and then they heard the departing beat
of the hoofs of Red’s horse. And the shock
of every footfall struck home in the heart of Marianne
and filled her with a great loneliness and terror.
And then the noise of the gallop died away in the
far-off night.
INVISIBLE DANGER
Alcatraz, cresting the hill, warned the mares with
a snort. One by one the bays brought up their
beautiful heads to attention but the grey, as was
her custom in moments of crisis or indecision, trotted
forward to the side of the leader and glanced over
the rolling lands below. Her decision was instant
and decisive. She shook her head and turning
to the side, she started down the left slope at a trot.
Alcatraz called her back with another snort.
He knew, as well as she did, the meaning of that faint
odor on the east wind: it was man, unmistakably
the great enemy; but during five days that scent had
hung steadily here and yet, over all the miles which
he could survey there was no sign of a man nor any
places where man could be concealed. There was
not a tree; there was not a fallen log; there was not
a stump; there was not a rock of such respectable
dimensions that even a rabbit would dare to seek shelter
behind it. Still, mysteriously, the scent of man
was there.
Alcatraz stamped with impatience and when the grey
whinnied he merely shook his head angrily in answer.
It irritated him to have her always right, always
cautious, and besides he felt somewhat shamed by the
necessity of using her as a court of last appeal.
To be sure, he was a keener judge of the sights and
scents of the mountain desert than any of the half-bred
mares but though he lived to fifty years he would
never approach the stored wisdom, the uncanny acuteness
of eye, ear, and nostril of the wild grey. Her
view-point seemed, at times, that of the high-sailing
buzzards, for she guessed, miles and miles away, what
water-holes were dry and what “tanks” brimmed
with water; what trails were broken by landslides
since they had last been travelled and where new trails
might be found or made; when it was wise to seek shelter
because a sand-storm was brewing; where the grass grew
thickest and most succulent on far-off hillsides;
and so on and on the treasury of her knowledge could
be delved in inexhaustibly.
On only one point did he feel that his cleverness
might rival hers and that point was the most important
of all—man the Great Destroyer. She
knew him only from a distance whereas had not Alcatraz
breathed that dreaded scent close at hand? Had
he not on one unforgetable occasion felt the soft
flesh turn to pulp beneath his stamping feet, and heard
the breaking of bones? His nostrils distended
at the memory and again he searched the lowlands.
