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For
once
in
his
life
,
Zeb
Stump
had
made
a
mistake
.
On
rounding
the
mezquite
grove
,
behind
which
both
had
made
disappearance
,
he
discovered
he
had
done
so
.
Beyond
,
extended
a
tract
of
chalk
prairie
;
over
which
one
of
the
horsemen
appeared
to
have
passed
--
him
without
the
head
.
Zeb
guessed
so
,
by
seeing
the
other
,
at
some
distance
before
him
,
riding
to
and
fro
,
in
transverse
stretches
,
like
a
pointer
quartering
the
stubble
in
search
of
a
partridge
.
He
too
had
lost
the
trail
,
and
was
endeavouring
to
recover
it
.
Crouching
under
cover
of
the
mezquites
,
the
hunter
remained
a
silent
spectator
of
his
movements
.
The
attempt
terminated
in
a
failure
.
The
chalk
surface
defied
interpretation
--
at
least
by
skill
such
as
that
of
Cassius
Calhoun
.
After
repeated
quarterings
he
appeared
to
surrender
his
design
;
and
,
angrily
plying
the
spur
,
galloped
off
in
the
direction
of
the
Leona
.
As
soon
as
he
was
out
of
sight
,
Zeb
also
made
an
effort
to
take
up
the
lost
trail
.
But
despite
his
superior
attainments
in
the
tracking
craft
,
he
was
compelled
to
relinquish
it
.
A
fervid
sun
was
glaring
down
upon
the
chalk
;
and
only
the
eye
of
a
salamander
could
have
withstood
the
reflection
of
its
rays
.
