“What do you think has become of her?”

“She’s somewhere in the woods asleep or dead, with the chances about even for either.”

“Jack says she was seen coming up the mountain path early this afternoon.”

“Well, she has kept to it till she has either slipped out of the path without knowing it or she has done it on purpose.  She has strolled along until it became dark or she was tired.  Then she has lain down on the leaves and gone to sleep.  Nero, find the trail of the little girl.”

“But,” said Tom, “the night is so cold.”

“So it is, but if the girl went out to play she was well clad, and, if she knew enough, she has crept under the lee of a rock or into the bushes, where the wind can’t reach her.  If she did the same, she hasn’t frozen to death.”

“But there are wild animals in these parts.”

“I know that, and she would make a meal that any of them would be glad to get; we can only hope they didn’t find her.”

Just then Nero, who had been nosing the path in front, uttered a whine and turned aside.  Hugh held up the lantern and saw that he had gone to the right.  He was following a trail of some kind; whether it was that of the one whom they were seeking was to be learned.  It would take a fine scent to trace the tiny footsteps under the carpet of snow, but such an exploit is not one-tenth as wonderful as that of the trained dogs in Georgia, which will stick to the track of a convict when it has been trampled upon by hundreds of others wearing similar dress and shoes, and will keep to it for miles by running parallel to the trail and at a distance of a hundred feet.

But in the latter case the canines have an advantage at the start; they are put upon the track or directed to hunt for it where it is known to exist; they are given a clew in some form.

The hound Nero was skilful in taking a scent, but his ability was not to be compared to that of the dogs to which I have referred, nor indeed was it necessary that it should be.  But he had great intelligence, and acted as if he understood every word said to him by his master.  He had saved Hugh and his friends many a time by giving warning from afar of the approach of strange parties.  It may seem incredible that he should know what was wanted of him, but there is the best reason for saying he understood it all.  Having no part of the little one’s clothing to help, he was without the clew which would appear to be indispensable.  His master, however, was satisfied the dog had struck the right trail.

“Stick to it, Nero,” said Hugh, encouragingly, “not too fast, but be sure you’re right.”

Without pause, the two followed the dog, Hugh in front with lantern in hand.  The woods were so cluttered with undergrowth that they could not go fast, seeing which Nero suited his pace to theirs.  Now and then he ran ahead, as if impatient with the slow progress of the couple, and then he calmly awaited their approach.