The native spoke to Cæsar, who bounded on to the horse's back in front
of his master. They then crossed the stream, which there was about fifty
yards wide, and so shallow that in the deepest part the water only
touched the horse's breast, but it was so roiled by the recent rain that
we could not distinguish the foot-prints of the horse beneath the
surface.

The dog ranged up and down on the opposite bank, but all to no purpose:
the overseer had not been there. He had gone either up or down the
stream--in which direction, was now the question. Calling Sandy back to
our side of the run, the Colonel proceeded to hold a 'council of war.'
Each one gave his opinion, which was canvassed by the others, with as
much solemnity as if the fate of the Union hung on the decision.

The native proposed we should separate--one go up, another down the
stream, and the third, with the dog, follow the road; to which he
thought Moye had finally returned. Those who should explore the run
would easily detect the horse's tracks where he had left it, and then
taking a straight course to the road, we could all meet some five miles
further on, at a place indicated.

I gave in my adhesion to Sandy's plan, but the Colonel overruled it on
the ground of the waste of time to be incurred in thus recovering the
overseer's trail.

'Why not,' he said, 'strike at once for the end of his route? Why follow
the slow steps he took in order to throw us off the track? He has not
come back to this road. Six miles below there is another one leading
also to the railway. He has taken that. We might as well send Sandy and