Edging his way between tree trunks, he pushed forward as fast as possible. His nose told him minutes before their arrival that a company of Germans was passing his way. Like a leopard he crawled up a tree and waited. They never heard even the flicker of a sound. Had it been daylight they would have found him, for his bare feet bled as he walked on the frost-stricken ground, leaving distinct marks behind. Once he had a very close shave. As he went up a tree and sat on a branch to let a couple of German sentries pass below him, he heard someone whisper from a branch into his ear. He knew at once that it was a German sharp-shooter. But he bent his head and listened. The German said: "Guten nacht," then stepped over and slid down the tree. No doubt he had taken Ghond for one of his fellow soldiers who had come to relieve him. After a while Ghond descended to the ground and followed the footprint of that German. Dark though it was, his bare feet could feel where the ground had been worn down by the feet of man. No difficult task that for him. At last he reached a place where a lot of men were bivouacking. He had to skirt around them softly, still pressing forward. He heard a strange noise right at his feet. He stopped and listened. No mistake, this was a familiar sound! He waited. The steps of an animal, "Patter pat, patter-r-r!" Ghond moved towards the sound and a suppressed growl ensued. Instead of fear, joy gripped his heart. He who had spent nights at a time in the tiger-infested jungles of India was not to be deterred by the growl of a wild dog. Soon enough two red eyes greeted his vision. Ghond sniffed the air before him carefully as he stood there and lo! he could not detect there was the slightest odour of man about that dog; the creature had gone wild. The dog too was sniffing the air to find out what kind of a being he was facing, for Ghond did not exude the usual human odour of fear and so he came forward and rubbed against him and sniffed vigorously. Fortunately Ghond carried Gay-Neck above the dog's nose and the odour of the bird's presence was carried up by the wind, so the wild dog perceived in the man before him nothing but a friendly fearless fellow. He wagged his tail and whined. Ghond, instead of patting his head with his hand, slowly put it before the dog's eyes to see and smell. A moment of suspense followed. Was the dog going to bite the hand? Another moment passed. Then ... the dog licked it. He now whined with pleasure. Ghond said to himself: "So this hunter's dog is without a master. Probably his master is dead. The poor beast has become wild as a wolf. He lives by preying on the food supply of the German army, for it is evident he has not yet eaten any human flesh. So much the better."