perfectly still, and would have remained within a few yards of the spot
by the hour together. Oliver reined back, seeing Felix about to bend and
string his bow.

"Bushmen," whispered Felix, as he, having fitted the loop to the horn
notch, drew forth an arrow from his girdle, where he carried two or
three more ready to hand than in the quiver on his shoulder. "I thought
I saw signs of them some time since, and now I am nearly sure. Stay here
a moment."

He stepped aside from the track in among the firs, which just there were
far apart, and went to a willow bush standing by some furze. He had
noticed that one small branch on the outer part of the bush was snapped
off, though green, and only hung by the bark. The wood cattle, had they
browsed upon it, would have nibbled the tenderest leaves at the end of
the bough; nor did they usually touch willow, for the shoots are bitter
and astringent. Nor would the deer touch it in the spring, when they had
so wide a choice of food.

Nothing could have broken the branch in that manner unless it was the
hand of a man, or a blow with a heavy stick wielded by a human hand. On
coming to the bush he saw that the fracture was very recent, for the
bough was perfectly green; it had not turned brown, and the bark was
still soft with sap. It had not been cut with a knife or any sharp
instrument; it had been broken by rude violence, and not divided. The
next thing to catch his eye was the appearance of a larger branch
farther inside the bush.

This was not broken, but a part of the bark was abraded, and even torn
up from the wood as if by the impact of some hard substance, as a stone