He looked inquiringly at the dog, glanced around, and then at the earth.

Belshazzar proceeded noiselessly at a rapid pace over the leaves: Suddenly the master saw the dog stop in a stiff point.

Lifting his feet lightly and straining his eyes before him, the Harvester passed a spice thicket and came in line.
For one second he stood as rigid as Belshazzar.

The next his right arm shot upward full length, and began describing circles, his open palm heavenward, and into his face leapt a glorified expression of exultation.

Face down in the rifled ginseng bed lay a sobbing girl.