“Red Indians are wonders,” said Sybil; “there are no tracking secrets hidden from them. They will lie in wait for hours; and the crumpling of a leaf or the shade of difference in a sound means everything to them sometimes. Their food depends on their scouting, you see, and their family’s food. They learn ‘stalking’ because they would die if they did not understand how to stalk. In our country, too, keepers and others look for ‘sign’ from morning till night. In the war, you’ll remember, scouting played a tremendous part.” “I say, Sybil, gipsies leave ‘sign’ behind,” put in Mona, as they all squatted on the grass. “Yes, they do. _Patrin_, they call it. And the gipsies can follow each other just because of it. It helps them more than we’d understand, I expect, since they are roaming all the time. I’ve seen broom-making gipsies sitting on the backs of their caravans and throwing down sometimes a bundle of twigs, and marking their road along from one town to another in that way. A regular trail is left behind; but only just plainly enough trailed, of course, for a watchful person to see.” “The ones that camp on the moor here make baskets, you know,” put in Mona. “Well, we are going to do something in the _patrin_ line this afternoon,” put in Sybil. “It’s much the same thing. You must all learn by following some definite clues, for we don’t want one of you, even a mascot, to get lost in a wood again. Eve and Lilian are going to lay down ‘sign,’ or _patrin_, or whatever you like to call it, and you four are to follow the scent. They have started already and are laying trail, and you must try to follow on, after they have had a fair start, and track them. Try to track the way they went by noticing any scraps of ‘sign’ they may leave; not only over the next two ridges of the moor, but all the way, try to keep exactly on their trail. It is a very simple test, and you may have an hour for it. Then come back here and bring reports. Afterwards, Eve will go over the ground with you and tell you what you have missed and where you went wrong. Remember to ‘hasten slowly’; you will miss a lot, possibly, by hurrying.” The four started off. It was glorious. The sun blazed down from overhead; the grass was baking underfoot. Betty’s eyes were wide with eagerness as she and Gerry made their way off together. Eve was even now returning behind the second ridge: and they were to bring back an account of every bit of “sign” she had left _en route_. The first “scent” was a footprint, imbedded deeply, and evidently on purpose, in a piece of upturned turf. Gerry, Mona, and Rene discovered it in chorus. “Pointing east. She’s gone that way. Is it Eve’s or Lilian’s?” “Lilian is wearing tackets in her boots and Eve isn’t, I noticed. The footprint must be Eve’s.” On they went.