The long whining note came again and much nearer. Now all music was gone
from it for Dick. It was ferocious, like the howl of the wolf seeking
prey, and he could not restrain a shudder. His danger had returned with
twofold force, because the hounds would unerringly lead his pursuers
through the forest as fast as they could follow.

He did not yet despair. A new resolution was drawn from the depths
of his courage. He did not forget that he was a good marksman and he
had both rifle and pistols. He tried to calculate from that whining,
ferocious note how many hounds were pursuing, and he believed they were
not many. Now he prepared for battle, and, as he ran, he kept his eye
on the ground in order that he might choose his own field.

He saw it presently, a mass of fallen timber thrown together by a great
storm, and he took his place on the highest log, out of reach of a
leaping hound. Then, lying almost flat on the log and with his rifle
ready, he waited, his heart beating hard with anger that he should be
pursued thus like an animal.

The howling of the hounds grew more ferocious, and it was tinged with
joy. The trail had suddenly grown very hot, and they knew that the
quarry was just before them. Dick caught a good view of a long, lean,
racing figure bounding among the trees, and he fired straight at a spot
between the blazing eyes. The hound fell without a sound, and with equal
ease he slew the second. The third and last drew back, although the lad
heard the distant halloo of men seeking to drive him on.

Dick sprang from his log and ran through the forest again. He knew
that the lone hound after his first recoil would follow, but he had his
reloaded rifle and he had proved that he knew how to shoot. It would