While saying this, the hunter stooped, picked up a handful of leaves, and began examining them attentively, one by one.
"What can those leaves teach you?" Don Miguel asked with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Everything," Valentine firmly replied, as he continued his examination.
Curumilla was surveying the ground, and questioning the rock.
All stopped; the chief pointed to a line about half an inch, of the thickness of a hair, recently made on the rock.
"They have passed this way," Valentine went on, "that is as certain to me as that two and two make four; everything proves it to me; the steps we discovered going away from the spot where we now are--are a sure proof."
"Nothing is more simple; the traces that deceived you could not humbug an old wood ranger like myself; they pressed too heavily on the heel, and were not regular, proves them false."
"Of course. This is what Red Cedar did to hide the direction he took; he walked for nearly two leagues backwards."
"I am sure of it. Red Cedar, though aged, is still possessed of all the vigour of youth; his steps are firm and perfectly regular; like all men accustomed to forest life, he walks cautiously, that is to say, first putting down the point of his foot, like every man who is not certain that he may not have to go back. In the footsteps we saw, as I told you, the heel was put down first, and is much deeper buried than the rest of the foot; that is quite impossible, unless a person has walked backwards, especially for some time."
"That is true," Don Miguel answered; "what you say could not be more logical."
"We have not got to the end yet," he said; "let me go on."
"But," Don Pablo remarked, "supposing that Red Cedar did come here, which I now believe as fully as you do, how is it that we do not find his traces on the other side of the rock? However carefully he may have hidden them, we should discover them, if they existed."
"Of course; but they are not here, and it is useless to lose time in looking for them. Red Cedar has come here, as this mark proves; but you will ask me why he did so? For a reason very easy to comprehend; on this granite soil, footsteps are effaced; the squatter wished to throw us out by bringing us to a spot where we must completely lose his direction, if we succeeded in finding his track. He succeeded up to a certain point; but he wished to be too clever, and went beyond his object; before ten minutes, I will show you the trail as clear as if we had been present when he went off."