The two men turned rapidly and set off in a new direction, attempting to head off their quarry before he could make his way to open ground. They managed to get in between him and the edge of the woods and were rewarded by seeing a brief ripple of white as the naked man turned and started back towards the center of the little forest. "Good work," said Thurman. Most of the time they tracked him simply by listening to the directions the noise of his running came from. Often they were close enough at his heels to get a quick glimpse of flesh in the distance--an arm, a leg, or part of his back. They got their first good look at him when they came out from behind a rock into a little clearing. The quarry was just disappearing into the forest on the other side of the open space. "Red stripes!" cried Karsten as they rushed across the clearing. "He's a subversive. Now, that is luck." "Looks awfully small to me," said Thurman, "whatever he is." "Damn. You don't suppose it could be a woman, do you?" Karsten asked somewhat breathlessly. "We only got a glimpse of it." "I hope not. Supposed to be bad luck to shoot a woman first thing on a hunt, you know," Thurman replied as they reached the far side of the clearing. "Anyway, we'll soon know." They plunged into the heavy forest only a few hundred yards behind their game. Following rapidly along behind him, they left a wake of broken branches and torn limbs as they went. The forest rang with the sounds of the chase. Soon, sloshing across a little stream, they came up over a grassy knoll and down into a shallow glade on the other side of it. "He's heading for the rocks, over that way," Thurman said, turning off in pursuit. "He won't be able to go much farther." "I don't know if _I'll_ be able to go much farther," said Karsten, the perspiration beading out across his heavy face. "I'm not used to this." "Neither is he," Thurman reminded him. "Remember, he's had nothing to eat for almost a week, and they probably didn't let him sleep for three or four days back. He can't last much longer." "I hope not," said Karsten. They passed across a narrow strip of marsh land, carefully avoiding most of the bog holes as they went. Just on the other side, as they came around a series of heavy berry bushes, they heard a long, shrill buzz from their ear plugs. Thurman stopped quickly. "Somebody else has spotted him!" he said, and took out his whistle. He gave it three lusty blasts and then stuck it back in his pocket. "That should fix them," he told his partner. They set off again in pursuit. Soon it became obvious to the two hunters that they were gaining rapidly on their quarry. They increased their pace just a trifle to take advantage of their lead. * * * * *