‘D’you see?’

‘Yes, well?’ said Olenin, trying to speak as calmly as he could. ‘A man’s footstep!’

Involuntarily a thought of Cooper’s Pathfinder and of abreks flashed through Olenin’s mind, but noticing the mysterious manner with which the old man moved on, he hesitated to question him and remained in doubt whether this mysteriousness was caused by fear of danger or by the sport.

‘No, it’s my own footprint,’ the old man said quietly, and pointed to some grass under which the track of an animal was just perceptible.

The old man went on; and Olenin kept up with him.

Descending to lower ground some twenty paces