They did not linger long to converse—­time was too precious for that—­but immediately struck into the path, Frank leading the way.  He soon learned that the names of his newly-found friends were Major Williams and Captain Schmidt.  They had been captured, with two hundred others, at the battle of Vicksburg, and had escaped while being taken into Texas.  They had accomplished, perhaps, half a dozen miles from the place where they met, when the breeze bore to their ears a sound that made Frank turn as pale as death, and tremble as though suddenly seized with a fit of the ague.  They all heard it; but he was the only one who knew what it was.

“What ish dat, ony how?” coolly inquired the captain.

Before Frank could reply, the fearful sound was repeated, faint and far off, but still nearer than before.

“Merciful heavens!” ejaculated the major, who now understood their situation; “is it possible you don’t know what that sound is? It is the cry of a blood-hound!”

“Oh, yah!” exclaimed the captain, as though the idea had suddenly come into his head, “I did think it vas a dorg.”

“Push ahead now, boys, for Heaven’s sake!” exclaimed the major.  “Push ahead as fast as possible.”

The captain evidently did not comprehend the danger of their situation; but Frank and the major knew that their lives depended upon the next few moments.  Oh, how thankful was Frank that he was not alone!  He now knew the meaning of Pomp’s warning; and the dreadful sound had so unnerved him, that it was with great difficulty he could keep on his way.  But this lasted only for a moment.  His fear changed to indignation, and a desire to execute vengeance on men who could be guilty of such barbarity.  It seemed as though the strength of a dozen men was suddenly infused into him; so, shouldering his rifle, he ran along the path with a speed that made it difficult for the Dutchman to keep pace with him.  But, fast as they went, the fearful sound grew louder and louder; and, finally, they distinctly heard the clatter of horses’ hoofs, and voices cheering on the dogs.

“Hurry on, for mercy’s sake,” said the major.

“Mine Gott in Himmel!” ejaculated the captain, who was puffing and blowing like a porpoise; “I can’t run no faster.  I guess it’s petter we stops and fights ’em, ain’t it?  I been not a good feller to run!”

“You must run a little further,” said Frank.  “We will certainly be captured, if we stop to fight them here.”

The captain made no reply, but kept along as close behind the major as possible.  Frank’s swiftness of foot was standing him well in hand now, for he frequently found himself obliged to slacken his pace, in order to allow his friends to come up with him.  But his usual confidence was gone.  He knew he could not stand that rapid pace much longer.  Soon they must stop and fight; and what if the dogs, which would, undoubtedly, be some distance in advance