"You see its tail--"

"Not yet, but almost--look!" From some bushes on our right we saw
the red snout of Lamuse appear peeping, like a wild boar's.

He was on the woman's trail. He had seen the alluring vision,
dropped to the crouch of a setting dog, and made his spring. But in
that spring he fell upon us.

Recognizing Volpatte and Fouillade, big Lamuse gave shouts of
delight. At once he had no other thought than to get possession of
the bags, rifles, and haversacks--"Give me all of it--I'm
resting--come on, give it up."

He must carry everything. Farfadet and I willingly gave up
Volpatte's equipment; and Fouillade, now at the end of his strength,
agreed to surrender his pouches and his rifle.

Lamuse became a moving heap. Under the huge burden he disappeared,
bent double, and made progress only with shortened steps.

But we felt that he was still under the sway of a certain project,
and his glances went sideways. He was seeking the woman after whom
he had hurled himself. Every time he halted, the better to trim some
detail of the load, or puffingly to mop the greasy flow of
perspiration, he furtively surveyed all the corners of the horizon
and scrutinized the edges of the wood. He did not see her again.

I did see her again, and got a distinct impression this time that it