Upon the soft, matted earth the hoofs of the horses made no impression and scarcely a perceptible thud.
Wade headed to the left, avoiding rough, rocky defiles of weathered cliff and wind-fallen trees, and aimed to find easy going up to the summit of the mountain bluff far above.

This was new forest to him, consisting of moderate-sized spruce-trees growing so closely together that he had to go carefully to keep from snapping dead twigs.

Fox trotted on in the lead, now and then pausing to look up at his master, as if for instructions.
A brightening of the dark-green gloom ahead showed the hunter that he was approaching a large glade or open patch, where the sunlight fell strongly.

It turned out to be a swale, or swampy place, some few acres in extent, and directly at the foot of a last steep, wooded slope.

Here Fox put his nose into the air and halted.
"What're you scentin', Fox, old boy ?" asked Wade, with low voice, as he peered ahead.