All he knew was that for some inexplicable
reason his quarry had come to a halt and seemed to have settled down
for an indefinite stay. Voices came to him in an indistinguishable
murmur, intensely irritating to a conscientious tracker. One of
Fenimore Cooper's Indians--notably Chingachgook, if, which seemed
incredible, that was really the man's name--would have crept up
without a sound and heard what was being said and got in on the
ground floor of whatever plot was being hatched. But experience
had taught Mr Pickering that, superior as he was to Chingachgook
and his friends in many ways, as a creeper he was not in their class.
He weighed thirty or forty pounds more than a first-class creeper
should. Besides, creeping is like golf. You can't take it up in the
middle forties and expect to compete with those who have been at it
from infancy.
He had resigned himself to an all-night vigil behind the bush,
when to his great delight he perceived that things had begun to
move again. There was a rustling of feet in the undergrowth, and
he could just see two indistinct forms making their way among the
bushes. He came out of his hiding place and followed stealthily,
or as stealthily as the fact that he had not even taken a
correspondence course in creeping allowed.
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