But his reason told him this slow method really would not benefit him, for his pursuers would soon catch up and see him from the banks. He had waded up the stream about a quarter of a mile, when he came to a spot where the stout branches of a sturdy leaning beech hung down within his reach. The idea which came to him was worthy of a white man's brain, for, pulling on the bough and finding it firm, he decided upon the original plan of getting out of the water there, where his trail would be lost to sight or scent, and climbing into the dense foliage above. His pursuers might not think to look upward at exactly that spot, and the hounds, bent on catching the scent from the ground where he landed, would speed onward, farther and farther away. At all events it was worth the trial. With quivering hands he drew the bough down till its leaves sank under the water. It bore his weight well and from it he climbed to the massive trunk and higher upward, till, in a fork of the tree, he rested, noticing, with a throb of relief, that the bough had righted itself and hung as before above the surface of the stream. On came the dogs; he could not hear them now, for, intent upon their work, they made no sound, but the hoarse, maddened voices of men under their guidance reached his ears. The swish through the undergrowth, the patter, as of rain on dry leaves, as their claws hurled the ground behind them, the snuffing and sneezing--_that was the hounds_. Closer and closer Pete hugged the tree, hardly breathing, fearing now that the water dripping from his clothing or the bruised leaves of the bough might betray his presence. But the hounds, one on either side of the stream, their noses to the earth, dashed on. Pete caught only a gleam of their sleek, dim coats and they were gone. Behind them, panting, followed a dozen men. In his fear of being seen, Pete dared not even look at their inflamed faces. With closed eyes pressed against his wet coat-sleeve, he clung to his place, a hunted thing, neither fish, fowl, nor beast, and yet, like them all, a creature of the wilderness, endowed with the instinct of self-preservation. “They will run 'im down!” he heard a man say. “Them dogs never have failed. The black devil thought he'd throw 'em off by taking to water. He didn't know we had one for each bank.”