The man had by this time reached the camp and was staring at the
blue chalk-marks on the rock, as if unable to believe his own
eyes. He did not stop there long. He saw at once that an enemy
had found his hiding-place, and that the dog was on his trail.
Leaping down the rocks, he started across the clearing on a run
toward the lake, his gun in his hand. Jock and Alan realized that
they could hardly reach the landing-place before the dog did, so
they changed their course and veered a little to the north,
thinking that in this way they stood more chance of concealment
and that they could signal the boat and get aboard in a less
conspicuous place.
By this dodge the dog lost the scent of the boys and, nosing the
ground, found the trail of Sandy and Jean. Baying frightfully he
came bounding through the underbrush and arrived at the landing
just in time to see Sandy push the boat from the shore with Jean
in the bow. Furious at being cheated of his prey, the dog ran
back and forth on the shore, making mad leaps in the direction of
the boat and barking as if possessed.
"Oh, where are the boys?" cried the distracted Jean. They
lingered in an agony of suspense, not daring to leave until they
saw that Jock and Alan were safe, and then from a little distance
up the shore came the pewit call.
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