The thing was inexplicable. Where was Celia? How had she gone without leaving a trace of her departure? Had she been there at all? Who had murdered Mrs. Martas? Surely some man or devil had perpetrated that crime. How had the villain escaped from the scene of his crime, leaving not the slightest clew by which it was possible to tell which way he had gone? I reported to Captain Martas the exact condition of the affair, and told him I knew not what to do, unless we could get bloodhounds and put them on the trail. He said there were no hounds within sixty miles; that all of the planters he knew preferred to lose a runaway rather than to follow them with the dogs. Rumors of the loss of Mrs. Martas had spread from plantation to camp, and two or three soldiers had immediately ridden out to the plantation, and then had followed us to the scene of the crime. One of them said: “If there are no hounds, send to camp for old Du Chien. He is better than any dog.” The remark was so singular that I asked: “What do you mean by saying ‘He is better than any dog’?” “I mean that he can follow the trail by the scent better than any hound I ever saw, and I have seen hundreds of them.” “Is that a mere camp story,” said I, “or do you know it of your own knowledge?” “I know it myself, sir,” said the soldier. “I have seen him smell a man or his clothes, and then go blindfold into a whole regiment and pick out that man by his scent. I have seen him pull a lock of wool off a sheep, smell it good, and then go blindfold into the pen and pick out that identical sheep from fifty others. I have known him to smell the blanket a nigger slept in, and follow that darky four or five miles by the scent of him through cotton, corn, and woods. He is better than a dog.” The man looked to be honest and intelligent; and while I could hardly credit such an astounding and abnormal development of the nasal power in a human being, there was nothing else to do; so I told him to take my horse and his own, ride as quickly as possible to camp, and bring old Du Chien with him. Then we made a litter, and slowly and reverently we bore the corpse of the murdered lady along the difficult road until we reached a point to which it was possible to bring a carriage, in which we placed her in charge of the horrified neighbors, who had by this time collected at the plantation. Captain Martas insisted on remaining with me and awaiting the coming of Du Chien.