and in a few moments he found just what he expected, -- one of
Lightfoot's footprints. Once more he grinned.

"Well, old fellow, I've outguessed you this time," said he to
himself." I am behind you and the wind is from you to me, so that
you cannot get my scent. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you're
back right where you started from, behind that old windfall."
He at once began to move forward silently and cautiously, with
eyes and ears alert and his terrible gun ready for instant use.

Now when Lightfoot, following behind the hunter, had lost the
scent of the latter, he guessed right away that the latter had
found his tracks and had started to follow them. Lightfoot stood
still and listened with all his might for some little sound to
tell him where the hunter was. But there was no sound and after a
little Lightfoot began to move on. He didn't dare remain still,
lest the hunter should creep up within shooting distance. There
was only one direction in which it was safe for Lightfoot to
move, and that was the direction from which the Merry Little
Breezes were blowing. So long as they brought him none of the
dreaded man-smell, he knew that he was safe. The hunter might be
behind him -- probably he was -- but ahead of him, so long as the
Merry Little Breezes were blowing in his face and brought no
man-smell, was safety.





CHAPTER IX: Lightfoot Becomes Uncertain