Precept and example are of great power and he recalled again much that
he had heard of his famous ancestor, Paul Cotter. He had been compelled
to fight often for his life and again to flee for it from an enemy who
reserved torture and death for the captured. Dick felt that he must do
as well, and the feeling increased his vigor and courage.

A little later he heard a note, low, faint and musical. It was behind
him, but he was sure at first that it was made by negroes singing.
It was a pleasing sound. The negro had a great capacity for happiness,
and Dick as a young lad had played with and liked the young colored lads
of his age.

But as he walked on he heard the low, musical note once more and, as
before, directly behind him. It seemed a little nearer. He paused and
listened. It came again, always nearer and nearer, and now it did not
seem as musical as before. There was a sinister thread in that flowing
note, and suddenly Dick remembered.

He was a daring horseman and with his uncle and cousin and others at
Pendleton he had often ridden after the fox. It was the note of the
hounds, but of bloodhounds, and this time they were following him.
From the first he had not the slightest doubt of it. Somebody, some
traitor in the Union camp, knew the nature of his errand, and was hanging
on to the pursuit like death.

Dick knew it was the little man whom he had seen by the river, and
perhaps the canoemen were with him--he would certainly have comrades,
or his own danger would be too great--and they had probably obtained the
bloodhounds at a farmhouse. Nearly everybody in Mississippi kept hounds.