Chapter Two.

The Trail of the Lazo.

Beyond doubt, the waggons of Woodley Poindexter were going over ground already traced by the tiring of their wheels.

Our own tracks! muttered Calhoun on making the discovery, adding a fierce oath as he reined up.

Our own tracks! What mean you, Cassius? You don t say we ve been travelling

On our own tracks. I do, uncle; that very thing. We must have made a complete circumbendibus of it. See! here s the hind hoof of my own horse, with half a shoe off; and there s the foot of the niggers. Besides, I can tell the ground. That s the very hill we went down as we left our last stopping place. Hang the crooked luck! We ve made a couple of miles for nothing.

Embarrassment is no longer the only expression upon the face of the speaker. It has deepened to chagrin, with an admixture of shame. It is through him that the train is without a regular guide. One, engaged at Indianola, had piloted them to their last camping place. There, in consequence of some dispute, due to the surly temper of the ex-captain of volunteers, the man had demanded his dismissal, and gone back.

For this as also for an ill-timed display of confidence in his power to conduct the march is the planter s nephew now suffering under a sense of shame. He feels it keenly as the carriole comes up, and bright eyes become witnesses of his discomfiture.

Poindexter does not repeat his inquiry. That the road is lost is a fact evident to all. Even the barefooted or broganned pedestrians have recognised their long-heeled footprints, and become aware that they are for the second time treading upon the same ground.

There is a general halt, succeeded by an animated conversation among the white men. The situation is serious: the planter himself believes it to be so. He cannot that day reach the end of his journey a thing upon which he had set his mind.

That is the very least misfortune that can befall them. There are others possible, and probable. There are perils upon the burnt plain. They may be compelled to spend the night upon it, with no water for their animals. Perhaps a second day and night or longer who can tell how long?

How are they to find their way? The sun is beginning to descend; though still too high in heaven to indicate his l