It was this fact which caused him the greatest concern, for it meant that if Nadara really had been following it she must now be wandering rather aimlessly, possibly in an attempt to again locate it. In which event her speed would be materially reduced, and the probability of her capture by Flatfoot much enhanced.
It was possible, too, that the beast already had overtaken her—this, in fact, might be the true cause of the cessation of the pursuit along the way which it had proceeded up to this point.
The thought sent Waldo back along his former route, which he was able to follow by recollection, though the spoor was seldom visible.
He came upon no sign of those he sought that day, but the next morning he found the point at which Nadara had lost his old trail upon a rocky ridge. The girl evidently assumed that it would lead into the valley below where she might pick it up again in the soft earth, and so her footprints led down a shelving bluff, while plain above them showed the huge imprints of Flatfoot.
Up to this point at least he had not caught up with her. Waldo breathed a sigh of relief at the discovery. The trail was at least two days old, for Nadara and Flatfoot had traveled much more rapidly than the wounded man who haunted their footsteps like a grim shadow.
About noon Waldo came to a little stream at which both those who preceded him had evidently stopped to drink—he could see where they had knelt in the soft grass at the water’s edge.
As Waldo stopped to quench his own thirst his eyes rested for an instant upon the farther bank, which at that point was little more than ten feet from him. He saw that the opposite shore was less grassy, and that it sloped down to the water, forming a muddy beach partially submerged.
But what riveted his attention were several deep imprints in the mud.
He could not be certain, of course, at that distance, but he was sure enough that he had recognized them to cause him to leap to his feet, forgetful of his thirst, and plunge through the stream for a closer inspection.
As he bent to examine the spoor at close range he could scarce repress a cry of exultation—they had been made by the hands and knees of Nadara as she had stooped to drink at the very spot not twenty-four hours before.
She must have circled back toward the brook for some reason; but by far the greatest cause for rejoicing was the fact that Nadara’s trail alone was there. Flatfoot had not yet come upon her, and Waldo now was between them.
The knowledge that he might yet be in time, and that he was gaining sufficiently in strength to make it reasonably certain that he could overhaul the girl eventually, filled Waldo with renewed vigor. He hastened along Nadara’s trail now with something of the energy that had been his directly before his battle with Korth.
His wounds had ceased bleeding, and for several days he had eaten well, and by night slept soundly, for he had reasoned that only by conserving his energy and fortifying himself in every way possible could he succor the girl.
That night he slept in a little thicket which had evidently harbored Nadara the night before.
The following day the way lay across a rolling country, cut by numerous deep ravines and lofty divides. That the pace was telling on the girl Waldo could read in the telltale spoor that revealed her lagging footsteps. Upon each eminence the man halted to strain his eyes ahead for a sight of her.
About noon he discerned far ahead a shimmering line which he knew must be the sea. Surely his long pursuit must end there.
As he was about to plunge on again along Nadara’s trail something drew his eyes toward the rear, and there upon another hilltop a mile or two behind he saw the stocky figure of a half-naked man—it was Flatfoot.
The cave man must have seen Waldo at the same instant, for, with a menacing wave of his huge fist, he increased his gait to a run, an instant later disappearing into the ravine which lay at the bottom of the hill upon which he had come into view.
Waldo was undecided whether to wait for the encounter where he was or hasten on in an effort to overtake Nadara, that she might not escape him entirely. He knew that he stood a good chance of being killed in the conflict, and he also knew that were he victorious it might easily be at such a terrible price that he would be physically incapable of continuing his search for the girl for many days.
As he meditated his eyes wandered back and forth across the landscape before him searching for Nadara.
To his right lay, at a little distance, a level plain which stretched to the foot of low-lying cliffs at the valley’s southern rim, some three or four miles distant. In this direction his view was almost unobstructed, but it was not in the direction of the girl’s flight, so that it was but by accident that Waldo’s eyes swept casually across the peaceful scene which would, at another time, have chained his attention with its quiet and alluring beauty.
It was as he swept a backward glance in the direction of Flatfoot that his eye was arrested by the hint of something far out across the valley, a little behind his own position.
To the Waldo of a few months previous it would not have been visible, but the new woodcraft of the man scented the abnormal in the vague suggestion of movement out among the long-waving grasses of the plain.
And now, with every sense alert and riveted upon the spot, he was quick to perceive that it was an animal moving slowly toward the cliffs at the upper end of the valley.
