sought an easy place for crossing.

Having thus determined the exact place of crossing, Tom concentrated his
attention on this spot, examining the bark systematically, inch by inch.
But no vestige of a clew rewarded his microscopic scrutiny. He was
baffled and his curiosity and determination rose in proportion to the
difficulties. His big mouth was set tight, a menacing frown clouded his
countenance, so that instinctively little Skinny refrained from speaking
to him.

Tracing the apparent line of the animal's crossing over the log, Tom
scrutinized the prints on the other side, that is, the side nearest
camp. Here the prints were very clear by reason of the crust of mud
caused by the dampness usually found near logs and fallen trees. Marks
on this showed like marks on hard butter.

Suddenly Tom's attention was riveted by something directly under the
apparent line of crossing, something which he had never seen the like of
in all his woodland adventures since he had become a scout. What he saw
looked singularly out of place there. Yet there it was printed in the
hard crust of mud, and as clear as writing on a slate. No human
footprint was near it. If a human being had made those marks that human
being must have reached from the log to do it. And the printing was
almost too nice for that.

Utterly dismayed, Tom looked again for human footprints but the nearest
were those of Hervey on the other side of the log, some ten or a dozen
feet beyond.

"Did either of you fellows do that?" Tom asked, pointing.