I could
not disengage him further, his feet being strapped into the disguise
with tight leathern thongs: but having satisfied myself that he was
past help, I turned on a quick thought to the gateway again, and ran.
A second hog--a real hog--lay stretched there on its side, dead as a
nail. Its companions, scampering in panic, had by this time almost
reached the head of the glade. Forgetting my promise to my father, I
started in pursuit. The thought in my mind was that, if I kept them
in sight, they would lead me to my comrades; a chance unlikely to
return.
The glade ran up between two contracting spurs of the hill. As I
climbed, the belt of woodland narrowed on either side of the track,
until the side-valley ended in a cross ridge where the chestnuts
suddenly gave place to pines and the turf to a rocky soil carpeted
with pine needles. Here, in the spaces between the tree-trunks, I
caught my last glimpse of the hogs as two or three of the slowest ran
over the ridge and disappeared. I followed, sure of getting sight of
them from the summit. But here I found myself tricked.
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