Several of the frustrated hounds on the other side were watching her with interest. They were rewarded when suddenly she struck the line and gave tongue. The whole pack dashed back across the stream and honored her find, and the hunt was on again.
The stag had gained ground on the hounds by his maneuvers and the scent was starting to dissipate. It held well in the sheltered woods, but each time the hounds burst into an opening, they found the wind had dispersed much of it and only traces remained on the grasses, the whole scent line, like a tunnel of invisible smoke, drifting downwind and rising as the air warmed under the morning sun. When the scent rose above their heads, George knew the hounds would be unable to follow anything other than the traces in the vegetation. Any hope of succe
