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- Стр. 597/662
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A
brace
of
black
vultures
,
who
have
risen
with
a
croak
from
their
perch
upon
a
scathed
branch
,
soar
up
into
the
air
.
Instinct
tells
them
,
that
a
pursuit
so
impetuous
can
end
only
in
death
.
On
broad
shadowy
wings
they
keep
pace
with
it
.
It
is
now
a
chase
in
which
the
pursued
has
the
advantage
of
the
pursuers
.
He
can
choose
his
path
;
while
they
have
no
choice
but
to
follow
him
.
Less
from
having
increased
the
distance
,
than
by
the
interposition
of
the
trees
,
he
is
soon
out
of
sight
of
both
;
as
each
is
of
the
other
.
No
one
of
the
three
can
see
either
of
the
other
two
;
though
all
are
under
the
eyes
of
the
vultures
.
Out
of
sight
of
his
pursuers
,
the
advantage
of
the
pursued
is
greater
than
ever
.
He
is
free
to
keep
on
at
full
speed
;
while
they
must
submit
to
the
delay
of
riding
along
a
trail
.
He
can
still
be
followed
by
the
sound
of
his
hoofstrokes
ahead
,
and
the
swishing
of
the
branches
as
he
breaks
through
between
them
;
but
for
all
that
the
foremost
of
his
two
pursuers
begins
to
despair
.
At
every
turning
of
the
track
,
he
appears
to
have
gained
distance
;
until
at
length
his
footfall
ceases
to
be
heard
.
"
Curse
the
damned
thing
!
"
cries
Calhoun
,
with
a
gesture
of
chagrin
.
"
It
's
going
to
escape
me
again
!
Not
so
much
matter
,
if
there
were
nobody
after
it
but
myself
.
But
there
is
this
time
.
That
old
hell-hound
's
coming
on
through
the
thicket
.
I
saw
him
as
I
entered
it
--
not
three
hundred
yards
behind
me
.
"
Is
there
no
chance
of
shaking
him
off
?
No
.
He
's
too
good
a
tracker
for
that
.
"
By
God
!
but
there
is
a
chance
!
"
At
the
profane
utterance
,
the
speaker
reins
up
;
wrenches
his
horse
half
round
;
and
scans
the
path
over
which
he
has
just
passed
.
