The lion left a plain track.

Here he stole steadily along; there he left many tracks at a point where he might have halted to make sure of his scent.

He was circling on the trail of the stallion, with cunning intent of ambush.
The end of this slow, careful stalk of the lion, as told in his tracks, came upon the edge of a knoll where he had crouched to watch and wait.
From this perch he had made a magnificent spring--Slone estimating it to be forty feet--but he had missed the stallion.

There were Wildfire's tracks again, slow and short, and then deep and sharp where in the impetus of fright he had sprung out of reach.

A second leap of the lion, and then lessening bounds, and finally an abrupt turn from Wildfire's trail told the futility of that stalk.