At first no one answered. Each looked at the other. Then one spoke
diffidently:

"If we follow this stream we shall eventually arrive at the waters
of Merom."

"But remember that meanwhile men and dogs alike will hunt us, and
that only one is armed, although the arm that freed us might
sustain a host," said another.

"We must efface our track and then hide. Let each one walk in the
brawling bed of the torrent; it leaves no scent for the dogs to
follow," said Hubert.

They descended slowly and painfully amidst loose rocks and
boulders, avoiding many a pitfall, many a black depth, until the
dawn was at hand. Just then they heard a deep sound, like a
cathedral bell, booming down the valley.

"What bell is that?"

"No bell, it is the deep bay of the bloodhounds."

"But they can find no trace."

"They are on the track we left, far above, before we entered the
stream. If they cannot scent us in the water, they will have the
sense to follow us downstream, keeping a dog on each bank in ease
we leave it."